


Where My Sky Falls Is Where I Call Home

by asongstress1422



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Canon Universe, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Political Alliances, Political Intrigue, Science, Slow Build, Slow Burn, grounder!bellamy, grounder!octavia, immovable glacier slow, living on earth, medical!clarke, sharing knowledge, stuborn, teacher, the Ark fell first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 49
Words: 93,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8719600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asongstress1422/pseuds/asongstress1422
Summary: There were thousands of casualties when Project Exodus was put in effect and the Ark came down. And more are dying each day as the ground slowly chips away at them. This is why Clarke Griffin is pushing for an alliance with the native people. Neither side are proponents of the idea, much more willing to drive the other to extinction then work together. But Clarke is ... persuasive.Arranged marriage and Grounder!Bellamy





	1. Prologue -- Where My Sky Falls

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a long one folks (for me at least).

From the cradle Clarke Griffin had been taught one thing: the Ark came first.

It was such a constant in her life that she never once thought to stop and _think_ about the meaning behind that statement, think on exactly constituted the Ark. Was it the scrapped together settlement set in orbit around a planet the a century prior humans had destroyed in ignorance? Was it the people that filled those bio-engineered tin walls that had survived the rigors of space from that first populace? Or, perhaps, was it the Upper Elite; the ones that made the rules and governed in accordance of what came before?

At the age of seventeen Clarke realized she didn’t care.

The Ark was sick, dying. The cancer spreading from its eldest bolt-welder to its newest child. And, to keep their power intact, the council decided no one needed to know once again ignorance proved it was the downfall of man.

“We’ve tried several options but none of them have worked. More people are coming down with oxygen deprivation symptoms. We are beginning preparations for project Exodus.” The medical chief and senior council member Abigail Griffin told her daughter in the sterile concrete confinements of the Sky box. “Don’t you see Clarke, we’re going to the ground.”

“So,” she looked at her mother blankly, “you executed my father … for the lie … of six more months.”

“Clarke, baby, please understand, I _loved_ your father but it was necessary. People would have panicked if he told them what was happening and that would have cost lives.”

 _It's already cost lives!_ Clarke wanted to yell, she wanted to _rage,_ but it wouldn't have done any good. For the first time in her life she looked at her mother and saw a stranger.

She vaguely wondered how her mother saw the Ark. If she saw them as people; individuals with cares and fears and lives. Or if she saw them as the sum of their parts; a colony of ants with no drive except what is best for the whole.

She wondered if it even mattered anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far I have a decent opening, a shell of a second half and no idea for an ending (Yay me).  
> Comments, corrections, concepts and thoughts would be greatly appreciated in moving forward and I thank you all in advance for everything you contribute.


	2. 47 days later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I thought I would post this next week and keep myself just a little ahead.  
> But nah.

Clarke stood at a sink scrubbing blood off her hands in a quiet corner of the Medward. They hadn't quite gotten the plumbing working since landing so she was forced to use a bowl to rinse the pink soap suds off her hands by dipping it in one of the large drums. Taking a deep breath she tried to become entranced with the fall of the water, to let it was everything away so she didn’t have to think _._ It wasn’t working.

When they had brought the girl in it had been too late to save her. Blood was everywhere and her heartbeat nearly nonexistent, but the small group of men who had brought her in had looked at Clarke with such hope in their eyes that she couldn’t tell them the truth. So instead she had lied and tried to save the girl, and she had died, and Clarke was surprised at how much that had hurt. She didn’t even know the girl. Learning only after the fact that her name had been Hannah, that she was twenty-two and had lost both parents in the Fall. That she had joined the guard unit after they had landed only to keep an eye on her two best friends. And had died when she set off a trap while doing mapping reconnaissance.

Clarke flung the small bowl away, too angry to even care that it shattered, as she braced her weight against the counter and hung her head.

6,439 people had lived upon the Ark when plan Exodus had been put into effect. 2,114 had survived their crash landing to see the earth’s surface. With the death of Hannah, a month and a half in,  there were only 1,896 left. The worst part was the Arkers had no idea what they had stumbled into until they stated dying. 

Half of the deaths were attributed to the normal pitfalls of living in an unknown land; animal attacks, illness, stupidity. Close to forty present though were directly linked to the indigenous, descendants of the ones who had survived the end of the world and had formed themselves into Warriors. Eager to defeat everything the earth had to throw at them. They were proving themselves willing to take on what came from the sky as well. 

Splashing water on her face Clarke tried to block out the darkness for a little bit with her hands pressed hard against her eyes. Things couldn’t go on like this. Tensions were mounting. With each new conflict with the indigenous people it brought them farther away from where she knew they needed to be. With each new death, people wanted vengeance not cooperation. They were so busy looking for ways to retaliate that they weren’t paying any attention to what the near future held in store for them.

The camp was running out of food. The council wanted to keep it hushed, again using the weak excuse of not wanting to cause a panic, but they were cutting everyone's Nut-i Packs rations from four to three. She dried her face on her shoulder, turning and leaving the dark asylum of the secondary med-room.

Nut-i Packs, or Nutrient Packets, were small palm sized bars that had been a staple food since even for they had landed. Brownish-green in color they had made from excess plant matter left over from harvests on the Ark. Two contained the recommended calories and nutrients necessary for a grown man to be at optimal performance and, as far as anyone understood, they didn’t go bad.

The council were cutting the man-made food claiming that the hunters were being successful. Also claiming that the gathers were bringing in more than enough food to begin sustaining them.

They were lying.

Again.

They were, of course, hunting but having been reared in space left them woefully inept at it. For every five people that went out only one came back with game, three came back empty handed and the last tended to be severely injured, sometimes even dead. They had several groups of gatherers that went out religiously to study, annotate, and collect specimens from the surrounding area but that was even more slow going then their hunting efforts. A group of ten could spend all day in a fifty foot swath of forest and still not find anything edible. Even when they did it took three days of testing to make sure it was a viable food source for the masses. They had lost six people from false positives and that was why there were so thorough in their testing. They never got to human trials until they had archival confirmation that when their ancestors had been on the ground the plant was edible, then they ran the Edibility Test three times on three separate individuals before they okayed it for city consumption.

So far they had found six different types of abundant greens and a stream-side tuber. Which might seem like a lot, but they were only able to cart back maybe a hundredth of what the camp required. And they had completely decimated at least two of the nearest populations. Which meant having to go farther out and bringing less back. And they could be walking past hundreds of perfectly edible things. Things they would know the name of and how to prepare them if the council agreed to her plan to form an alliance with the people down here. And she wouldn’t have to try and patch up dying girls because they ventured into a trap.

But no. It was ‘too risky’. Her mother's words as to why the council was dragging their feet. She added a ‘right now’ at the end of it to appease her daughter but Clarke saw in her eyes that it was never going to happen.

She wanted to scream at their stupidity. The risk hardly mattered at this point, it wasn’t like they could be any worse off. At least this way they would know where they stood instead of stumbling around blindly.

Speaking of stupidity. She spied a group of teens moving ahead of her in the hall. She recognized the tall blond one from several altercations with him in the past and knew for a fact he was supposed to be on shift right now in the prison ward. ‘Granting aid,’ what a joke.

“Hey you, stop,” Clarke called out to them.

The group checked over their shoulder. Seeing it was her they grimaced.

“Ah, shit,” one whispered as the group came to a stop. “It's the princess.”.

“I told you we should have taken **C** corridor.” Another said just as softly, punching his friend in the shoulder.

“How was I supposed to know she would be here? She’s always in **E** block.”

“Which is just two hallways over, you dumbass.”

“Both of you shut up and let me handle this,” Chris hissed. He turned with a much more welcoming grin as she came within ear shot. “Miss Griffin. How are you doing tonight.”

She ignored his charming tone. “Where are you going? Don’t you and Miss Whitson have evening shift at Lock Up?” She thought, but didn’t say, _on the other side of the ship._

His eyes hardened but he still kept his smile in place, “we did it earlier.”

“I see.” She eyed him up and down, they both knew he was lying. “And your supervisor let you off shift early?”

The smile turned into a smirk. “Yep.”

She looked over the group, three others besides Chris and his shift partner Sinthia. She memorized their faces. “Well then, I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

“Oh, we will." Sinthia slipped to the forefront winding her hand through his and tugging him away, "come on, babe, let's go. I’m sure Miss Griffin is very _busy._ ”

The three in the back shared irresolute glances with each other but followed the couple.

Clarke turned the opposite way, going to check on some information. They were becoming too blatant in their contempt for the prisoners. No doubt emboldened by the times they got away with it before. Maybe this time they had slipped up just enough to get caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, anything you think would work in this setting, or even a funny little something you would like to see happen, let me know. I have about a six month story line but only two months of content.  
> Any and all comments are greatly enjoyed.


	3. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will be using trigedasleng a lot in this story. For some words that I can't find a translation on I will make up. Translations on what I write will be at the end of the chapter.

“Get the hell out of my way.” Clarke stared the young cadet down, fist clenched around the strap of her bulging rucksack. She always hated dealing with this particular snotty guard.

“So what,” the man scoffed still blocking the door, using his height to try to intimidate her, “you can waste what resources we have on these animals?”

“Funny," she sneered, "I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

Anger flashed in his eyes and he made a step forward.

“Murphy!” The name was barked from down the hall. The two teens turned to the commanding voice. Marcus Kane, Council Member and Commander of the Guard, marched up crowding between them. Clarke refused to be moved so there was a second of too close quarters before both men gave ground. Neither were too pleased by it.

“Clarke, I know your mother has warned you that coming here is dangerous. _I’ve_ warned you that coming here is dangerous,” he said tone patronizing. 

“Are you denying me access to the prisoners, Councilman?” Clarke asked calmly, using his title to keep things on official footing .

“Of course not,” he gritted between clenched teeth. “I would be remiss in Abby's decree by keeping aid from them. I'm simply asking for you to let the ones trained in such aid do their job.”

“And where are they now?” she demanded. 

“Excuse me?”

“Where are the assigned aids now?” she pressed, as he looked at her blankly. “I understand there are to be two rotations. Mornings are to be done but assistants Tracy and Demi. However, I know for a fact that Tracy has been inventorying in Agro all day. Demi has been out sick for almost a week.” Her mother had always been one to gather the facts before presenting a case and Clarke had learned much in her bit of sleuthing. “Sinthia and Chris are evening shift but I saw them no more than an hour ago walking the halls with a group of friends. Have the prisoner's been seen to at all today, Commander?”

Marcus's eyes pinched at her implication.Without turning away from their confrontation he lifted the log pad from the wall, powering it on. When the glow hit his face he glanced down for a second., posture relaxing as he looked up and held out the tablet for her to see.

Clarke glanced at the screen. It stated that Tracy had signed in at seven-fifteen am. It also showed that both Chris and Sinthia having signed in forty-five minutes ago at eighteen hundred hours. For a second she doubted. Maybe Tracy had come before going to Agro. Maybe the couple did swing back and check on the prisoners, their conscience getting the better of them. Then she saw it there at the bottom of the screen, the page counter; 39/45. Like she had said, stupid.

“I’m sure they stopped by here on their way out," he said, a condescending smirk on his lips, as he dared her to counter this proof. "Or maybe you misread the time?” 

He was trying to give her an out, getting her to take back her words that hinted at him not being on top of his people, at failing at his job. Expressionless, but with great relish, she reached out and brushed the pad to the next day’s log. The names appeared in the exact same place, in the exact same time slots. 

With a frown he turned the tablet back to himself looking over the information. His eyes narrowed father as he brushed to the next day. And the next. With an agitated twitch of his finger he shut the device off and folded it with his hands behind his back.  

His voice was cold as he spoke, anger rolling through the clipped words, “rest assured that I will be having words with these individuals.” He would not have shed a tear if ever prisoner had turned up dead, but that someone went against orders and lied about it was not to be born. “In the meantime I apologize for any inconvenience this has caused you.”

“No trouble.” She to smirk but kept her triumph to herself, it wouldn't do to completely alienate him when she had won. Hiking her pack higher on her shoulder she requested, “if you’ll excuse me.”

 “Of course," his lips pinched but he unlocked and held the door open for her himself. She nodded to both men as she past.

The heavy metal clanging shut behind her echoing down the hollow corridor caused her stomach to plummet and her heart rate to spike. She wandered if she would ever be used to this terrifying feeling of being locked in. Knowing she had to be mentally strong to deal with these people she took a minute to compose herself before setting off down the hallway.

She knew from experience that the three doors on her right opened into single person chambers, only one of which was in use as of now. Not yet ready to deal with the even more closed off space and wanting a more lengthy discussion with that room's occupant she angled for the door at the end of the hall. This one opened up to the cells. Eight-by-ten boxes that boasted a pallet, an embedded chamber pot and a barred entrance. There were twenty-four in total that lined both walls evenly. Just over half were filled.

These prisoners called themselves the _Geda,_ a word she had learned meant ‘people’. They were a warrior race left over from the ones that had survived the destruction of the earth and had learned to live in the aftermath. That was the reason she wanted an alliance; they had _survived_. It was what she wanted for her people.

Arms folded through the bars in the second cell on her left, followed by a darkly tanned face and black hair. He looked her over for a second, resigned recognition in his eyes before calling out to the others in their native tongue. “ _Ems_ _skaifaya_ _gada._ ”

More faced appeared at the bars, some remained stubbornly empty.

She let the backpack slip off her shoulder and hit the floor, “I brought food.”

“ _Em kel bilaik fleim oush dina,_ ” one of the men complained and several snorted, amused. She’d gotten the word for ‘food’ and something about fire but that was it.

“Okay boys,” she said digging in the bag and pulling out a double handful of wrapped packets, “you know the drill.”

She walked up to the first cell offering two packets to Sampson, the large, muscular grounder who when not in battle was turning out to be quite the teddy bear.

He tapped a finger to his closed left eye, “b _linka_.”

“ _Blinka,_ ” she repeated dutifully with a smile. He nodded with a smile of his own as she handed over the food before moving down to the man that had first scouted her out.

“Sindri,” she greeted with a nod.

“ _Skaifaya Gada,_ ” he returned with a players smile and a wolfish gleam in his eye as he leaned arrogantly against the bars. He was sinfully attractive and knew it with dark hair and eyes. She had also been there when they had buried the three guards he had killed before he had been subdued.

“What word do you have for me today?”

“ _Houpgeda,_ ” he made a careless arc in the air with a hand, “sky color.”

She handed him his two food packets. He accepted them with a wink. “ _Chof, därliN_.”

She rolled her eyes but moved on.

And it went on that way. For food they had to teach her a new word. It was unspokenly decided it was better this way. Sure, some of the men still hated her and would have little to no qualms about snapping her neck but with her they knew they would eat. And she got the bonus of learning the language. It was extortion, no doubt, but at least they were both getting something out of the deal.

In the beginning the men had only shared contemptuous threats and gross slurs but only new words got food. So they gradually slipped into more useful vocabulary or, in Sindri's case, flowery. A couple still clung stubbornly to being as vulgar as they could possibly be. Penn was one of those people.

“ _Peetch,_ ” he sneered, already reaching for the food.

She held it away from him. “Uh, uh, uh. I already know that word. I’m almost positive it was you that taught it to me, too.”

“ _Ai fouc yu daun en jok yu az bon yu au sis yu au. Ai gada in yu teisa teik in ai mami,_ ” he snarled with so much venom she stepped back. He brought his face as close as the bars would allow. _Peetch_.”

“Peen, _pleni_!” Sindri snapped and she knew what the boy had just said had to be truly terrible. The few words she had been able to pick out left her ill.

It took more courage than she would ever admit to step back up close enough to the bars to hold out the packets to him. “I’m sure there were a few words in there I don’t know.”

He eyed her hand.

“Yu osir fragon ai swega klin bash op yu strik swela!” Sindri hissed. Peen just smirked turning his eyes back to her, hatred burning in them. He carefully reached through the bars and took the packets without touching her.

“Klark, time to leave.” There was clear warning in Sindr's voice. She nodded, but knew by some instinct that if she looked away from the warrior in front of her something bad would happen. She also felt that if he though she was running away something even worse would happen. The tension from the others was starting to grow and more then one eyed the door and the camera above it with trepidation.

There had been a few times in the beginning when the prisoners had attacked their handlers. Guards had rush to the aid of their comrades and three had ended up dead. All natives.

Then her stomach growled and all that building tension drained from the room. The boy blinked in startled surprise glancing down at the noise maker in confusion. A few of the others shares a chuckle at her expense. Red with embarrassment she moved back to gathered up her pack as the others faded back in their cells.

“ _Branwoda_.” She knew that word already; ‘stupid’.

“It wasn’t like I planned to get into it with him today,” she quietly snarled back at Sindri, rearranging things in her pack to hide her shaking hands. “The aids finally got caught skipping out on duty and they are more than likely going to get new ones to be in charge of you. Hopefully these ones will be better.”

“They can’t be worse.” He looked down at her, eyes shrewd, “why do you care so much?”

“Because I’ve been where you are.” She zipped the bag shut fitting it back on her shoulder. “I will try to come tomorrow.”

“We are not friends, Sky Girl,” he warned her softly, eyes serious.

“I know.” She turned walking away. “We are enemies; _baga_. It is a word you have taught me well.”

It was a good thing she was looking for an alliance and not friend or his words might have hurt.

* * *

 translations:  
“Ems skaifaya gada.” (The star girl)  
“Em kel bilaik fleim oush dina.” (She calls that burnt ash food)  
Blinka (eye)  
“Houpgeda.” (rainbow)  
“Chof, därliN.” (thanks darling)  
Peetch (bitch)  
“Ai fouc yu daun en jok yu az bon yu au sis yu au. Ai gada in yu teisa teik in ai mami.” (basically rape. it you want a full translation I have the dictionary I used below.)  
pleni (enough)  
Yu osir fragon ai swega klin bash op yu strik swela (If you get us killed in here I will snap your scrawny neck!)

 

<http://trigedasleng.info/dictionary/>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please leave a comment on what you might like to see (in general) in the story, need some help fleshing out the middle and end. Also, should I change the summery? It seems t0o focused on the beginning and not the whole story.


	4. The Thirteenth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and thanks for all your comments :D  
> 

She left the celled area re-entering the hall with the three doors. She stopped and knocked on the center one.

There was no reason for it. The prisoner inside couldn’t answer the door or even barricade it if they wanted to. It was just one of the thousands of things that ticked her off from her own time in solitary, the complete disregard of all basic courtesies, the least of those being a knock before entering.

“Octavia,” she greeted

At seeing that it was her the girl lost a little of the hard set of her shoulders though it didn’t make her any softer. It didn’t make her any less dangerous either. “Clarke.”

She shut the door behind her encase Kane got any idea’s about eavesdropping. “I brought food.”

The girl wrinkled her nose but stepped forward to accept it. Clarke hid a smile.

“That book I brought you, did you finish it?”

“I mainly looked at the art. It is hard to see that humans were wise enough to build forests of buildings at tall as trees then destroy it all with their stupidity.”

“Not that hard to believe,” Clarke muttered to herself, sitting on the ground and pulled out her tablet. She filtering through several programs to get to the recording program she had open. “I have more translations for you.”

“How are the others?” Octavia asked as she paced back and forth along the back of her cell, reminding Clarke of the training clips of a tiger. Captivity must be hard on someone who had always been free. Solitary confinement, from Clarke's experience, must be even worse.

Clarke remembered when the girl had first been brought in with soot rimming her eyes and braids in her hair. She had fallen in a skirmish a month ago with a blow to the head and had a mild concussion. It was one of the reason she was in solitary. The other being when they had tried to move her into the cells with the others there had almost been a riot.

She had broken a guard's shoulder when he had reached through the bars to hand her some food. The others in the cells surrounding hers had attacked the man and reinforcements had to have been called in.

That's what had originally drawn Clarke back into these cells not even a week after she had sworn never to enter them again. She had treated the guard's injuries because her mom had been too busy at the time to get out of a council meeting. The man had been removed from the prison roster on medical leave and a female had assigned to each shift after that.

Clarke at been intrigued by the story of this warrior woman and had gone to see her.

While there she had also seen the dismal condition these people had been left in. They had been taken simply because the Ark was so surprised at having found human life still on the ground they had no idea what else to do with them. They tried to get more information from them and had had difficulty with the language barrier. Other things had taken presidents and they had all but forgotten them.

Until Clarke stepped in.

“They are about as well as can be expected.” Clarke answered as Sampson's voice filled the area. She remembered the other girl’s almost-fear the first time she had played the other’s voices through the device. She had been hostile thinking she had trapped them inside the program until Clarke had explained it was just sound and the others were still in the rooms next door, safe.

“He said ‘eye’. And how exactly is that?” Octavia asked coming to sit by the metal bars, picking off a corner of a Nut-i pack and eating it.

“Chris and the others finally got caught skipping duty.”

“Who is Kris? ‘Sky color’ is right, but I think the old world word is ‘rainbow.’”

“ _Houpgeda_ ,” she made a note of it in her device. “Rain Bow. He’s the blond kid who’s supposed to be doing night rounds. His shift partner is named Sinthia.”

“I thought it was just me they were skipping. _Graunpeka_ is a type of _skaiflaya._ A, uh, bu-, beer-, bir-, bird?” She mimed flapping. “Small bird. It runs on the ground.”

“Ground bird. _Graunpeka._ I know _skai-_ is sky, so _skaiflaya_ is ... air bird?”

“Yes,” Octavia nodded.

Clarke made another note. “They weren’t just skipping you, it was everyone. I have no doubt that they were stealing the food for themselves or selling it to others for favors. The Council has cut the food rations.”

“What does that mean for us?” There was quiet anger in her voice and her unblinking stare caused the hairs on the back of Clarke’s neck to stand up. “If you are cutting food for your own people what does that mean for your _honon?_ Are we just to die slowly from starvation?”

She knew that she was in much more danger now than when she had stared down Peen. So again she put up a front of false bravatti. Sitting up on her knee she looked the warrior right in the eyes. “I will not let that happen.”

“ _Moubeda eintheing ridiyo_ ! And how goes your plans for this _hukop_ , this great alliance? You think G _eda_ will treat with you if all of us are dead? _Branwoda goufa!_ ”

Some of the Council was advocating killing some of the prisoners as a show of strength. Clarke knew that needed to be avoided at all cost. She was learning that the _Trekrew_ was like one large family. Killing one would lead to a ripple that would have unknown, devastating, effects. “I’m trying my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Well your best isn’t good enough.” The other girl snarled.

Clarke stood up shoving the tablet back in her bag, her movements agitated. “Don’t claim I’m not doing enough when you would have done nothing if our roles were reverse. At least I’m trying to keep everyone alive. Could you have said the same?”

With that she slammed out of the cells.

She marched to her rooms fuming. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone, if someone called her name she ignored it.

This wasn’t here fault! She didn’t want any of this to happen, yet she seemed to be the only one that was actually trying for a peace that would benefit everyone. Why was that so hard to see?

She pulled out her tablet and flung the pack onto the bed. Tucking the headphone in her ear she tapped it twice to sync it to the system. On the screen she scrolled backwards the recording till she came to noticeable vocal spikes before hitting play.

Sampson’s voice filled her ear.

“ _Blinka_ ,” she repeated aloud, back playing it to hear it again. She fiddled around and made a small soundbite of just the word. In the file name she typed ‘eye’ and hit save.

She did the same for the other dozen words she had gathered that day, imputing either the translation she got from Octavia or from what she could gather from the guy's context clues. She tried to set them to memory at the same time.

She got to Peen’s contribution of the day and shivered again at the menace in the boy's voice. If this was the kind of attitude even a third of the grounders had toward her people it would save everyone time if she just set off the bombs now.

She didn’t know how she was going to pull this off, she just knew she had to.

* * *

 

 _Honon (_ prisoners _)_

 _Moubeda eintheing ridiyo_. (more not truths; more lies)

 _Hukop (_ alliance)

 _Branwoda goufa_ (stupid child)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feed back!!!


	5. Fairy Tales

Nightmares woke Clarke early.

She was strapped into one of the seats onboard the first of the eight Exodus ships as an automated voice counted down. Her father was sitting next to her smiling. Her mother was on her other side holding her hand and telling her everything was going to be alright.

But Clarke knew this part of the story and that nothing would be alright.

The voice reached zero and there was a jerk as the explosions dedicated, shooting them away from the Ark. The sound of rending metal rocked the small ship and she turned just in time to she her father’s face seconds before he got sucked out of airlock and shot into space with those arounder her as their escape pod disintegrated right after launch.

There was just enough time for them to realize what had happened before they died from the exposure. Hundreds of people instantly dead and floating around her as she was somehow forced to watch them trapped in her seat.

Unable to breath. Unable to help. Unable to do anything.

Not that there was anything she could have done. In the dream or in truth. It hadn't been her and her mother’s ship that had blown but two of them had exploded at launch; he father had already been dead.

Of the eight that had left the Ark only three made it intact to the ground and even they had sustained heavy casualties from hard landings.

Knowing she wasn’t going to get any more sleep and not ready to begin working with death she decided to use this extra time to drop off the food for the prisoners. She knew it wasn’t going to be a priority for Kane to get new people down there. He would do it of course but he was very much someone who took the letter of the law into account when faced with something he found beneath him.

She left her quarters slinging her bag over her shoulder. From how quiet everything was, she estimated she’d gotten just a few hours of sleep. There just never seemed to be enough time for it. Between work, and dreams, and worry it was a wonder she slept at all.

She slipped into the medward having passed no one in the halls. They kept a box of Nuti bars there to pass out to patients that were bedridden and it was where she had grabbed yesterday’s portions.

The food stuff came in storage packs of five hundred that weighed about a hundred and twenty-five pounds. This one was still about half full but another day or two and the other med-techs would start to notice the missing ones.

She wasn’t sure the next time she’d be able to get down to the prisonors so she grabbed a fist full for each person, stuffing them as quickly and quietly as she could in her bag. She dealt more with the spirit of the law herself and didn’t want to get caught and have to answer questions.

Back in the hallway she thought she was in the clear until she reached the final turn to Lock Up and saw Murphy leaning up against the door. She paused debating just turning around and slipping away, hesitating just a moment too long to go unnoticed.

“If it isn’t the princess. What, have a pea under your mattress?” he smirked at his own joke.

There was not help for it now that she was spotted. With a sigh she continued walking towards him, “what are you still doing here?”

He gave her a look reserved for those that were not charted on the IQ tests. “Guard duty.”

She frowned, “all night?”

“Ten hour shift. Earns me my rations and keeps me away from people. Kane thought it was a win-win.”

Murphy had gotten in several fights since landing. They needed everyone and he was still just shy of his eighteenth birthday so there was no talk of floating him, but he had a hot temper that would land him in serious trouble when things became more settled. She found herself agreeing with Kane that all-night duty was the best option.  “A true anti-social butterfly.”

“The real question is what are _you_ doing here,” he checked the tech-pad on the wall, “at 4:38 in the morning no less?” He grin turned sly, “visiting the prisoners again?”

It was her turn to give him the idiot stare.

He gave a truly charming smile at that. “You know I’m not supposed to let visitors in. “

“I’m not a visitor, I’m the Chancellor's daughter seeing that a duty is carried out.”

“Not your duty and I know Mommy Dearest wants you as far away from here as she can keep you. You’re quiet vocal in your protests, princess, gets on the Higher One’s nerves.”

He saw and heard too much, she tried to bluff her way through it. “Are you denying me access to the prisoners?”

“Cute," he gave her a dry look, "but that won't work on me. I’m not Kane, scared you’d run off and tattle. I know you don’t want _her_ to know you were here.” He grinned and pushed the door open for her.

“What’s the catch?” She stood in the threshold eyeing him.  “You tell my mother unless, I what? Bribe you?”

“Maybe I just want to see what you do.” He glanced over at the log tablet. “Whatever it is, better make it quick. This fairy godmother turns back into a witch at shift change.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Good, then I’m doing my job right.” She still didn’t move. “Tick, tick, tick, princess.”

She slipped in. The last thing she saw was his smiling face as he closed the door behind her.

That was … odd.

Again she pass by Octavia’s cell and into Lineup, walking quietly to not disturb the sleeping men. Moving the bag so that it rested against her chest she made short work of grabbing several packs and stacking them just outside the first occupied cell.

She moved on to Sindi’s. Kneeling down as she dug in the bag when a hand snapped through the bars and grabbed her around the throat too fast for her to make a sound. Her arms came up to uselessly claw at the fingers as she was pulled closer to the snarling face.

“Klark?” His face lost some of the fierceness to a bout of shock. It felt like an eternity but must have been only a second before he let her go. She quickly scrambled away from him, heart racing. Hiding her terror she scooped up the bag and bars she had dropped. “ _Chit laik yu_ \-- What are you doing here?”

“Delivering food.” She spoke quietly moving on to the next cells, keeping a sharp eye on the shadows in the barred rooms incase someone else was awake. She wanted no more surprises. “I’m not sure when I can make it back so try and string these out as long as you guys can.”

“And payment?” He asked just as soft as she. Was there a edge to his voice? Or was her fear still affecting her? Even now her heart was beating worryingly fast.

She gave him tight smile, telling herself to get over it. She had probably worried him just as much as he had her, a stranger in the dark sneaking up to his cell. “We’ll just say you’ll owe me one.”

“We are good on making up our debts.” He smiled back, charm leaking back into his voice and she breathed a slight sigh of relief. Her smile was more real as she slipped out, feeling Sindri's eyes on her as she left.

Onto Octavia. She stood in front of her door for more than she probably had time for. She wasn’t sure how much longer she had but she didn’t want to test Murphy's good graces. Until tonight she would have said he didn’t have any.

Now, to knock or not to knock; that was the question. She settled for a soft tap incase she was actually one of the few people that turned out to be sleeping and slipped through a crack in the door. She needn’t have worried for it turned out few slept in this place.

The woman was doing floor exercises.

“Clarke.” She greeted panting, continuing to push her planked body up and down another dozen times with only her arms before standing.

“You shouldn’t exercise like that, it’s a wastes of your calories.” She dug in her bag pulling out the last several of the bars. “I brought more packs. I’m telling you what I told the others; save them as much as you can. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get more.”

She held them out, slipping her hand through the metal bars.

“Thank you.” Octavia grabbed them, cradling them in her arms as she fiddled with one of the wrappings.  “I though a lot about what you said last night and you’re right. We don't keep prisoners. If it was my people that had captured some of yours, they would have all been killed.

“You’ve kept me alive, you’ve kept most of us alive and would have kept the others had you the choice.” She took a deep breath. “Because of this I need to ask something more of you, even though I am undeserving.”

“I can not help you escape.” Clarke stressed. Having them as bargaining chips was probably their last chance to even get a foot in the door with the rest of the natives, if they haven’t already irrevocably damaged their chances by taking them. “For our plan to work we need you, as many of you as we can get. If I help you escape I would be letting go our chance for survival.”

She nodded. “And that I understand. But no, I know you can not help me in leaving. I just need to get a message to someone.”

“I would be forfeiting my own life trying to get close enough to talk to one of your people.”

“Truth. But I don’t need you to meet anyone, I just need you to drop it off somewhere.”

“Any letter you give me I will be honor bound to turn over to the Chancellor as a bargaining chip.”

“Not a letter, something else. _Ah_ _de-liys_.”

“A _de-liys_?”

“Yes, it’s a plant,” she mimed with her hands. “Its white and this big. _Ah bluma_ , uh, flower _._ ”

“You want me to drop a flower in the woods?” Clarke asked incredulous.

“It is important,” she seemed almost frantic as she spoke. “He’ll think me dead and I need to stop him before he does something _branwoda_.”

 _Stupid_. Clarke saw to the depth of the girl's soul feeling her own heart ache in commiseration."You love him."

“ _Moubeda sonraun_. I need him to know I am alive. I need him to know their is not need to follow me to where he thinks I am. Please. I have wasted enough time in not telling him. I hadn’t thought of what he would do if your people were like the enemies we’ve know.”

“And what will you do for me?”

Octavia nodded again having expected this question and offering everything she had. “I’ll help you. I’ll help you learn who you need to talk to and what you need to do to get this audience you crave for your people. I can not guarantee an alliance on my _heada’s_ name, but I can tell you what you need to know.”

“ _Heada?_ What is that?”

“ _Heada,_ our Leader. She who rules the twelve clans and --”

A fist hammered on the door before it jerked open causing both girls to jump. “Yo, princess, I told you you needed to be out of her by shift change. Move your ass.”

She ignored Murphy slipping her empty bag over her shoulder. Keeping her voice quiet she spoke in halting _trigedasleng_. “No promises. I try.”

Shutting the door behind her she was walking away when Murphy grabbed her arm. “What did you say to her right then?”

She looked at the hand on her arm before slowly glancing up to meet his eyes. “Get. Your hand. Off me.” Menace radiated off her.

He sneered by quickly let her go. “So the Princess is siding with the grounders, hu? Thinking to get in good with them?”

“We are living here now. It is in our own self interest to at least know how to communicate with them.”

“Why would we go through the trouble when we’re just going to annihilate them all.”

“Because if we annihilate them we will be annihilating ourselves!” she hissed. “We haven’t been on the earth in a hundred years. All of our information is outdated and comes before the earth was soaked in radiation. We don’t know weather patterns, seasonal changes, hunting regions or even how to farm down here. All the things _they_ never forgot. Without their help we are going to be just as dead down here as we would have been trapped with no air in space.”

“But what did you say to her right there at the end? And how the hell did you start learning that grounder shit?”

“How about you stay out of my business and mind your own,” she spat knocking past him. “It’s what you’re good at.”

“So this is the thanks I get for letting you in there to help your little pets,” he hollered after her “Well fucks to you too, princess.”

She ignored him and just kept walking away. There were too many things on her mind to worry about hurting the assholes feelings. He was probably going to sell her down the river anyway, at least she didn’t have to wonder if he was going to trying and blackmail her. He’d go straight to the top and tell her mother, get a reward right from there.

Now she needed to talk to someone who would know where the white _de-liys_ grew. And she knew just where to find him.

 

translations:

_“Chit laik yu-- (what are you)_

_Ah_ _de-liys (_ A lilly)

 _Moubeda sonraun_ (more than life)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. I really appreciate any and all feed back and comments. Ask me questions, give me suggestions, I love it all. :)


	6. Remedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing just keeps on growing!!! I wanted to introduce different characters this chapter but the story was all like 'nope, more development.' instead.  
> Thanks to literaltrash for the first comment. And special thanks to RayanneJD, Wright, suku, ELSchaaf who helped me immensely with their feed back on the questions I asked. You guys all rock!!

“Monty!” Clarke pounded on the metal door. “Open up!” She pounded again. “Monty!” She heard panicked scrambling. “No need to hide the moonshine, it’s just me.”

Another minute pass before the door cracks open and a pair of bleary eyes peeked out from behind it. “Clarke?” Monty croaked.

“You look like shit.” She greeted, going into doctor mode as she eased her way inside. He was wrapped in his blanket, a circle of white crust, no doubt dried saliva on his left cheek and his hair in disarray. “I thought I told you to let other people be your guinea pigs when you make a new batch.” She took his head between her hand and ran a few perfunctory tests.

“We did. But they looked like they were having so much fun we had to join them.” Jasper, Monty’s best friend and roommate, said from the couch. Friends since the time they could walk, wherever one went the other was not far off. As genius as they both were, they could pulled some idiotic stunts. “Clarke, can’t you score us some good shit for these headaches.”

Monty’s eyes were bloodshot and his tracking was a little slow. Dehydrated and, if Jasper was feeling it too, in the throngs of a killer of a hangover. “I don’t get ‘the good shit’ for people who ignore my advice--”

“Kill sport.” Jasper groaned from his face down position on the couch.

“But, I might be able to get a couple of salicylic acid tablets.”

“Please,” Monty croaked, puppy dog eyes almost tearing up.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Have either of you tried drinking some water?”

“I prefer hair of the dog.” Jasper roused himself into a sitting position, that small shift seeming to completely wiping him out. “If we’d had any. Drank it all last night. Heavens what a party.”

“You guys are going to get in trouble.”

“Might as well do it now before _They_ start implementing floating again.” Jasper said.

“That was for population control. Down here They _need_ people. The worst they will probably do down here is lock up, maybe exile.” Montry turned to her. “Right, Clarke?”

She nodded. “They need worker bees more than they need corpses to bury. The ground is creating more then enough of them as it is.”

“We lost another one?” Jasper went still at Monty’s incredulous question.

“Yeah,” Clarke tried to ignore the twinge as she thought of yesterday. “A girl named Hannah, originally from sanitation. When we landed she became part of the Guard.” Monty turned sharply to look at Jasper.

“How’d she die?” Jasper asked, pointedly studding his hands in his lap.

She eyed Monty before she answered. “She set off one of the Native’s traps. Her partners brought her back. I, I wasn't able save her.”

He nodded, not looked up at them. He tilled over to lay on the couch drawing the blanket back over himself.

Clarke shot a questioning glance at Monty who shook his head and pointed to the door, leading the way.

Back out in the hall he said. “They were having a bit of a thing the last week or so. He thought she stood him up last night and went a little harder than he normally would’ve with the drinks.”

“Is he going to be okay?” She asked quietly.

Monty shrugged. “At this point we’re use to losing people.”

His words stabbed her in the heart. They were kids, for Hubble’s sake! Death was not supposed to be a given.

Jasper had lost his father when he was very young and his mother after he finished primary school. His grandmother, a hard no nonsense woman, had taken him in then. She had died a year ago, a week after he got his certifications for engineering.

Monty’s losses had been more recent and in a way more scarring. His father didn’t make reentry, had a heart attack mid-launch. By they time they had landed and had any hopes of getting medical attention it had been too late. His mother had taken it hard, closing herself off from everyone and throwing herself into work as the head research analyst for the Gatherers.

Monty was leaning heavily on Jasper’s support right now. And as much as Clarke loved the lanky young man, she didn’t believe him to be the best of role models.

“I’ll stop by later to drop off those pills. Eat something and drink some water.” She turned to leave.

“Clarke?” She turned back and he took her hand. “He will be okay. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

She tugged him into a hug. “I know.”

* * *

It was a bit after 10 when Clarke began munching on her first Nut-i bar of the day as she finished reports from morning rounds in the med-ward. Earlier, she had dropped off the tables for the boys only to find they had gone to sleep. Kaleb’s broken leg was healing well. Why he thought jumping off a newly constructed shed was a good idea Clarke would never know but she felt that in another three weeks they’d be able to leave off the cast and he could begin strengthening it. Unless he did something stupid again, he’d be fine.

Reese, the young girl whose file read she had been going blind due to oxygen deprivation on the ship was starting to be light sensitive on her left side. She was still blind in that eye but they prognosis was looking good that her brain was healing and there was a possibility that she might regain sight in the coming months.

All in all, she was pleased with some of the chronic patients healing.

“You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you, princess?” A chill skittered down her spine, she knew that voice. Chris.

She set her stylus and the rest of her bar down, turned in her chair to face him, folding her hands in a perfect imitation of her mother as she looked down her nose. “It has never been my strong suit, no.”

“I’ve been demoted because of you.” He seethed.

“Good. It was a serious infraction.”

“Serious? Please,” he rolled his eyes. “No one cares if the Grounder trash miss a few meals. That just means there's more for us.”

“It wasn’t just about your unwillingness to do your job, Christopher, it was your unwillingness to follow orders and your complete disregard of human decency. You weren't just not feeding prisoners, you were lying about it and stealing the food.”

“It’s just food. Besides it’s not like I kept it all to myself. If the council is going to cut rations they should first cut it to those who are not citizens.”

Clarke went cold. The echo of Octavia’s worries in his words frightened her. If Chris was speaking them many more thought and felt the same way. How long til the immediate need out weighed future gain in the people’s eyes? Were they even willing to see the future she wanted to create?

“You violated they trust you were given as a higher member of the Guard.” She spoke coldly. “You’ve shown you are not trustworthy. Of course you’ve been demoted. If we were still on the Ark you would have been floated. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Lucky? Lucky!” He laughed, the sound grating. He leaned in close to her, smile sharp, eyes burning with hate. “You better watch your back, _princess._ Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you or that grounder trash.”

She refused to give ground and let him crowd closer to her then she wanted. “Be careful, Christopher. Someone would think you were threatening me.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” he straightened, knowing he had unnerved her. With a final smirk he turned and left.

She glanced around to see if the scene had been noticed by anyone else but they were all busy with their own jobs. Taking a calming breath she turned back to the desk and picked up her stylus. Ignoring the rest of her food, and the slight tremor in her hand, she set back to work.

* * *

“You’re looking better.” Clarke greeted smiling an hour later as Monty sauntered into the room.

“Feeling better.” He sat on the bench next to her.

“Hey, do you know where a white flower, about a hand-span big, grows?”

“Random, but okay. They grow on the east side of the river where the bank slopes pretty hard. Mom say’s they’re a type of lily. Pretty to look at but no special properties as far as we’ve been able to deduce. Why are you asking?”

She couldn’t lie to him so she gave him just enough for a heads up encase things when south for her later on. “One of the natives were talking about it. They call them ‘ _de-liys_ ’. The east bank you said?”

“Yeah,” he eyed her. “What are you planing?”

“Nothing that could get me sent to lock up.”

His eyes widened at her words, understanding the lie in them from her direct stare. Glancing around at the other med-techs he leaned in closer and whispered. “For the grounders?”

“The _geda._ They aren't monsters, Monty.”

“But they’ve killed dozens of us. How could you help them?”

“Because I know by doing so I’ll be helping all of us. They’re just trying to survive just liked the rest of us, that doesn’t make them evil.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts,’ Monty. Thank you for the information. If this makes you uncomfortable just forget we ever had the conversation.”

He bit his lip, looking away from her. Finally he turned back, coming to a decision. “I wanna help.”

“I- what?”

“I want to help. You need that flower? My unit is studying that area of the east bank for new growth this afternoon.”

“Really?”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “They are now.”

“Monty, if I get caught, I might be able to bluff my way out of getting in trouble because of my mom’s position. I can’t guarantee that for the rest of you. Not to mention what I’m doing is going to be stupidly dangerous.”

“I don’t know what your talking about. We’re going out to recategorize the growth that has happened since the last time that area was checked on. We brought you so you could help gather some of the plants needed for medical.” He dropped the good boy persona and frowned at her. “And isn’t it more dangerous to go gallivanting alone through the woods? At least this way you have an armed research group and three gun-guards with you.”

* * *

 

translations:

 _de-liys_ (lily)

 _Geda (_ people _)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed back is always appreciated.


	7. Foodstuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy.

They had no trouble getting out of the gate but the other members of Monty’s group gave her a few confused looks when she had appeared with her backpack. Their faces seemed vaguely familiar. No doubt from having treated various wounds in her medical apprenticeship and she was pretty sure the girl with red hair had been in one of her elementary courses on the Ark. She had not idea what their names were and was too embarrassed to ask.

Monty was definitely in his element here and the group as a whole seemed to defer to him. They were still surprisingly jovial and friendly with each other, all roughly around the same age.

From launch notes and calculations they knew they had landed along the middle of what use to be north america on its eastern most coast and they were guessing that the ocean was within a hundred miles east of them. In the beginning there had been some talk of trying to find it but that had quickly died down when the weather proved to be a big enough challenge when they had a roof over their heads.

There had been a slow, but distinct, raise in the temperature since they had landed. Most mornings it was still cold enough to see ones breath but it hadn’t rained in over a week and the sun was making the plant life flourish.

The had been walking for almost an hour when Monty dropped back to walk with her.

“We’ve been seeing a ton of new plants growing along the path. If it’s the same where we stop, we’re going to have to do a lot more sample collecting then I was counting on. You don’t have anything going on back at camp do you?”

“No,” She smiled at him as they stepped around one of the others, Brandon she had learned his name was, who had stopped to quickly sketch a mushroom growing at the base of a tree in his tech-pad. “I passed off all my scheduled patients to Palomina when I left. If anything dire comes up, one of the other senior techs can handle it or they can call in my mom.”

“Cool, then do you mind helping? An extra pair of hands and all that.”

“Not a problem, though I’m not sure how good I’d be at distinguishing the plants.”

He ducked his head giving her a playful smile. “We’ll just mainly need you as a pack mule. ”

She just had to laugh at that. The sound more joyful and carefree than she’d been able to muster for a long time. Hawkings, when was the last time she had actually laughed? Not wanting to ruin this new found contentment she pushed aside the image of her father’s smiling face and simply continued to enjoy the sun warmed forest around her and the slight burn in her calves.

This was in most definitely the farthest she’d been from the crash zone. It might even be the furthest she’d walked in one continuous direction in her life. Now there was an odd thought. The Ark had been over five miles long but the miss match of stations meant there wasn’t a single hallway that ran its full length.

When they had landed her mother did not want her going outside the newly erected fence. As her job didn’t require her to, Clarke had mostly heeded the instruction for no other reason that she didn’t have the time to disobey. When she did have the time the sky had been steely gray and trying to drown them all.

There had been a few dozen times when she had slipped out with a group to help with the washing at the river or to help push the giant barrels of dirt used in foundation making. Everytime she had been blown away at the majesty that the earth had to offer and angered at the stupidity of man that had asininely destroyed it all.

Or tried. The river still ran, the trees still grew, and the sky from time to time was the most brilliant blue one could ever hope to see. Proving once again the earth would persevere through all of humans failings.

She was pulled from her daydreaming when Monty called her name. The others were setting down packs and pulling out smaller field bags. Monty was a little ways farther at the top of a small rise. He waved her to him. With a confused frown she joined him.

And was completely awestruck.

“Oh, wow,” she whispered.

The sun turned this bend of the river into a brightly shining jewel. On their side of the bank, eighty yards farther downstream, in an old scar in the hillside and shaded by a few remaining towering pines, a carpet of white flowers gave tribute to their yellow god.  

“Yeah.” Monty grinned, sharing a bit of her wonder. “It wasn’t half this crowded the last time we were here. True sun and rain really are a wonder tool for growing things, aren’t they?”

“Monty!” He turned back to see who was calling him but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Be right there!” Out of the corner of her eye she saw him wave in the callers direction. He dropped his arm and turned back to her “Okay, rules are we stay within sight of each other. Sound off when you find something new.”

“How will I know if it’s new?”

“Pretty much everything down here is new but it’s more for just keeping track of each other. If we’re constantly talking at one another, we know when something’s wrong if one of us goes silent. Keep an eye out for animals, too. Mom says they’ve seen an increase of smaller game, so that probably means predators are on the rise too. If you see something strange or feel like you’re being stalked, scream your head off but do _not_ run.”

She nodded. “They covered that in Earth Studies.”

“Understanding what to do and doing it when a hundred and fifty pound cat is in front of you are two different things.” His eyes were haunted and she remembered early on when one of the groups had been attacked by such an animal. Two had died from the attack and three more, days later, from their wounds.

She knew it had been a gatherer group but didn’t remember hearing that Monty was on the team. She needed to make more time for her friends.

“I’ll be careful.” She promised him.

She expected him to turn away then and walk back down to his team but he just stood there looking out at the rapidly moving water.

“I know that we aren’t bringing in enough other foodstuff like the council is claiming but they’re still cutting the pre-made rations. It will be months of research before we can determine enough edible plants to sustain the whole camp. And months more before we are able to adequately gather and distribute them.” She always knew he was smart but being on the front lines of the epidemic gave him knowledge that a lot of others didn’t have. He turned to look at her. “Do you really think these grounders will help us?”

She glanced over her shoulder, everyone was still down at their impromptu base setting up, before answering him. “No, I don’t. We’re an invasive species that is and will continue to take a chunk out of their resources as long as we’re around.”

“So this is all hopeless.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged turning back to look at the flowers. “But it’s our only chance. We need to prove that this will be a mutually symbiotic relationship, that we have goods and knowledge that they need to live, that we can be worthy allies.”

“And how do we do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“But it has something to do with getting those flowers?”

“The _geda_ girl, her name is Octavia, made me a promise if I did this for her she’d help me in my goal of forming an alliance.”

“And she can be trusted?” Monty asked.

She opened her mouth to say yes but had to close it with a frown. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” his look was one of pitty. “I’ll stop asking you questions you can’t answer.”

“I’m trying Monty. I’m trying so hard but it always seems that I’m the only one.”

“I’ll help you in anyway I can.” He promised her softly. She gave him a sad smile. He gripped her shoulder in a show of solidarity before slowly making his way back down.

She sighed before heading forward towards the lilies.

* * *

The group spent the rest of the afternoon in the pocket made by the little bend of the river, fanning through the underbrush taking notes and collecting samples. After Clarke had collected her flowers, a virtual bouquet because she wasn’t sure how Octavia’s lover-boy could find a single flower in the whole of the forest, she tried to peter around and help in anyway she could but she was quickly losing steam.

She wasn’t a slouch. Her job often required her to manhandle unconscious or immobile patients but constant walking was something very new to her. From anatomy, she knew there were over a hundred muscles, tendons and ligaments in the foot. What Clarke didn’t know was that after hours of working them, over uneven terrain, she’d want to remove them entirely.  

The others saw her lagging energy and commiserated. They remembered the first few weeks of tired legs, achy feet, and sore backs. Not to mention the few times the team had broken out in a rash from picking plants that had skin irritants in them. Not wanting to go through that again due to an accidental brush up they set her at the side of river with instructions rest her feet in the freezing water.

Clarke vehemently refused. She would not sit down while the others did all the work. It wasn’t until they gave her the job of watching the bags and organizing the samples they brought her was she content to sit down. Them pointing out that they all had to walk back may have had a little to do with that decision as well.

The sunlight was starting to turn golden when the others returned by some silent consensus. They all seemed happily tired from a fruitful day. That tiredness would turn to weariness by the time they made it to camp but right now they simply basked in a job well done.

“How are you doing?” Monty asked her as they were packing up the day’s samples in the piles Clarke had organised them in.

“Okay.” She reassured him. “The cold water helped a lot.” He bit his lip seeming to waver about something. “Monty, what is it?”

“About a quarter mile east of here, one of the first harvest zones for a large patch of Water Lily Grass we found. I want to find out if with all this good weather if more have sprouted up since we picked it clean.” He blurted.

Clarke pushed herself up. “Then let's go.”

“It loops back to camp but the trek is going to add another mile to the overall trip. ”

“Let’s go.”

“But I don’t want to tire you.”

She chuckled. “Monty, I’m already tired. An extra mile couldn’t be much worse and if this will help the camp I’m all for it. So let's _go_.”

* * *

An extra mile could be much worse.

However, it gave Clarke a better distance to lay down her lilys and the hope that the one human she wanted to find them, did.

They eventually made it to the area Monty wanted, the sun still valiantly breaking through the heavy tree cover and found an abundance of the low growing grass. Legs shaky, Clarke sat as the others pulled out a tarp and started harvesting giant handfuls of the stuff.

With their packs already full they wouldn’t be able to bring back more than enough for a few dozen people. The distinct green taste of the plant made it popular enough that that could cause a problem. With a shake of her head, Clarke dispelled the worrying thought. It was more food, no use borrowing trouble over a good thing.

The leg cramp, when it hit her, caused her to yelp out right and clutch her calf. Instantly Monty was there taking control of her leg and stretching it out straight. That seemed to only tighten it more and she gripped his shoulder.

“Breath and try to relax.” She growled at his soothing tone, sucking in a sharp breath when he arched her foot  back and the muscle tightened almost unbearably before loosening.

She nodded her thanks as he continued to rub out her muscle. The others, seeing that she would be okay went back to work not wanting to waste the nother hour of daylight they had left.

“I know your not going to want to hear this, but you should probably keep walking so this doesn’t seize up again.”

“And who's the doctor here?” She chirped in false annoyance.  

“You are. But I don’t think ‘drinking plenty of water’ and ‘staying off it’ will help in this situation.” He pointed out glancing at the miles of woods around them as he set her foot down. “How does that feel?”

She felt the lingering tightness just waiting to spring forward and sighed. “Like I should keep walking on it so it doesn’t seize up again.”

“A doctor is always right.” He helped her stand. “We won’t be too much longer. I need to get us home before full dark.”

She nodded and he returned to the group scurrying to gather as much as they could. Even the gun-guards were helping, knowing those who helped got first pick of the brought in food.

Clarke made a meandering circle around the grass patch not wanting to crush any of the plants that might be gathered later on. She had walked a little farther than she meant to, the group out of sight in the dense brush but she could still hear their happy chatter.

She was just about to turn around when a hand came up and covered her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Water Lily Grass is actually called Miner's Lettuce. Though I think it is native only to the east coast, it is and edible plant with a lot of vitamins. Miners during the gold rush use to eat it to prevent scurvy. Its amazing what you learn when doing research for the stories you write, isn't it?
> 
> Please leave a comment and any edible plant knowledge you may have. The first person information would be greatly appreciated as all I have is google to go on.


	8. Probability

 

A hand came up and covered her mouth. Another came around and wrapped around her waist, anchoring her arms against her side and pulling her up against a hard chest.

“Scream and I will break your neck.” The tone was masculine. The words hissed down in her ear as he dragged her backwards deeper into the forest.

The threat wouldn’t have stopped her. Her life was worth a lot less than that of the other ten people in her group. But something had caught her eyes as she flailed and frantically scanned for ways of escape.

Black markings. Crawling up his arm in a mass of thick lines and sharp points. A twin for the ones that glided up Octavia’s forearm. She had seen such markings before, each prisoner had his own fair share of them but never had she seen one so similar. Was he from her same tribe?

From the little she had been piecing together from hearing the prisoners talk there were at least a couple of different groupings of indigenous in the area. Where the markings a way of distinguishing them from each other?

Then why haddn’t she seen more matching as they all seemed fairly familiar with each other and were quick to come to Octavia’s aid when they had brought her in the main cells for that disastrous first time. She could see a few of them not belonging but not all of them for how close they seemed with each other.

Or was he possible her brother? That could account for the identical markings? A way to track heritage and bloodlines?

Her mind spinning through the possibilities, she was slow to reached when he crowded her into a tree against her stomach, using his weight to keep her pinned, and forced a gag between her teeth. She thrashed at that, trying to reach around and claw at him. Easily he flipped her forward and caught both her hands and locked them together at the wrist in his grip.

It was then that Clarke got her first look at her assailant. He was bald. Charcoal paint streaked down his face banding each eye. The hate burning through them, in an otherwise still face, gave her an over all chill. Keeping her contained with the one hand he reached behind him at hip level and brought forth a lily. One of the ones she had dropped if the browning edges were a clue.

Her eyes locked on it. Had Octavia set this up? Did she know Clarke was going to be captured by one of the _geda_ because of her instructions? Had she sent her out on a suicide mission?

Why did Clarke not expect to be double crossed? Truly she never even thought that the flowers were going to be found by anyone, let alone a native. The forest was just too vast. She thought to dropped the flowers, bring back one as a sign she had fulfilled her bargen and hope that Octavia kept her word.

And now she was staring at a man that held the captive woman in very high regards.

He tipped the flower to draw her attention back to it. “You know her?” Clarke nodded at his question, unfazed at hearing the perfect english as she tried to think of a way she was going to get out of this. She tested his grip on her hands. It was solid to begin with, but at her flex he bor down even more.

“Is she alive?” There was no inflection to the words but Clarke felt that if she had been forced to answer in the negative the man that stood before her would have ceased being.

Clarke nodded again. She saw, for just a second, a heartbreaking softness. As if everything in the world had righted itself with the knowledge that the woman he cared about was alive. Her father use to look at her mother like that when she was able to come home from a contagion quarantine.

Then his eyes hardened, the softness gone like it had never been, and a knife ghosted into his hand and was brought to rest against her throat. “You will tell me where she is and how I will gain entry.”

He would die. Then the rest of the prisoners would die because the council could not allow another rescue attempt. Then a war will break out between their people and more would die and all her hopes and plans would burn up like pod seven on reentry. Eyes locked, fear rippling down her spine, Clarke shook her head.

She felt the blade press closer, felt the sting of her skin parting, but she never looked away.

The blade disappeared. Before she had much time to even sigh in relief he was looping a cord around her wrist.

“You better hope your life is worth something to your people.”

“Clarke we’re getting ready to go.” Monty. Both froze at the voice calling out through the forest.

“Clarke?” There was a new tension in the word and the sound of forest fodder cracking grew louder as he drew near. Her captor returned to wrapping rope around her wrists faster.

Clarke used his nearness, lashing out with her tied hands to grab his shirt. She used her hold as an anchor point to bring her knee up and into his kidney. He flinched, grunting, and she shoved he away, reaching up to rip the gag from her mouth even as he was lunging back at her.

“Give me a minute.” She called back to her friend, trying hard to not seem like she was panting. The native froze at her words, his hand still reaching for her. “I’m answering the call of nature.”

“Well hurry up,” there was a note of relief under the annoyance. “We all want to get back before the grounders come out.”

“Yeah,” she called back, locking eyes with the man before her, “wouldn’t want that.”

She lowered her voice, bending to slip the knife from her boot. “Meet me just inside the tree line to the east of my camp tonight at moon rise.” As she talked she set to awkwardly sawing the rope at the bad angle. “If you bring anyone, I won't talk. If you threaten me again, I won't talk. And if you try to kidnap me again know I am the only one in that whole place that cares if she or any of the other twelve live or die.” The lashing snapped and she was free. She returned the knife to her ankle and stood. “If I’m not there by it's zenith I won't be coming.”

He grabbed her arm as she made to move passed him. “Be there.”

She jerked free, “I’ll try. If I can’t get away I will two nights from now.”

“Be there.”

She rolled her eyes, “just make sure you’re there alone.”

As she made her way back to camp with the rest of the group she thought over what had just happened. What were the odds that she would have not only have found a native, not only one of Octavia’s own clan, but the one man that she was sent out to give a floral message to?

Probably somewhere in the solar system of surviving an emergency exodus from a dying space station in a hundred and fifty year old hunk of metal and making it back to earth in relative health. It was concerning how things had worked out so far, for math always had a way of evening itself out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Michaela who left the only comment on the last chapter. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make is seem like the mystery man was going to be Bellamy. I always knew it was going to be Lincoln.  
> I wont promise when Bellamy will get his butt in this story, all I can promise is that he will be in this story.  
> Thanks to all those who are still reading. Comments, questions, and suggestions are greatly appreciated.  
> ~~Jay


	9. Knowing Thine...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the readers that have continued to comment and the ones that just commented on the last chapter, this ones for you. Thank you all so, so much for your lovely words. They made my week.

They got back to camp only to learn that there were standing orders to personally guide Clarke to her mother as soon as she reentered camp. The guards were gracious but would not even allow her the time to put her bag in her room as they marched her to the Chancellor's office. It made her feel like once again her life was being controlled by the whims of another.

When the two guards stopped to knock she pushed forward, slamming through the door. She had a juvenile sense of accomplishment at the resonating bang. Her mother was sitting behind her desk working on her teck pad. At the sound of the crash, her head shot up with a glare. Seeing who it was at the door her the glare smoothed into a look of concern as she stood and came around the desk. “Where have you been?”

Clarke stepped away from her reaching hands, her defensive posture making it clear she did not want to be touched.

Hurt flashed in her mother's eyes but Clarke had long stopped being swayed by her mother's emoted emotions. Seeing the look had not softened her daughter she waived the two guards, who had remained in the open door, off. They left, closing the door behind them.

“Marcus told my you visited the Grounders last night.” Clarke refused to answer or even look directly at her. Instead choosing to stand at military ease in the middle of the room staring past her shoulder. Her mother sighed. “You know I don’t like you being in there with them.”

“You issued an order as the chancellor that the prisoners be granted basic human decency when under our guard. I was just seeing that your orders were followed through when others refused.”

“Yes,” Abby said tiredly, “he told me about that as well. Rest assured they have been duly reprimanded. Speaking of reprimand,” she eased back against her desk crossing her arms, “you left the camp without my permission.”

The distance between them was only a few feet, but with the anger and distrust swirling in the air them one of them could have still been on board the Ark.

“I am of the legal age of majority. I didn’t realize my every action required your permission.”

“Of course it doesn’t, Clarke, only when you leave the Camp. As much as you hate the notion right now, you are my daughter. It is my job as your mother to see to your welfare and its not safe out there. The next time you go out of camp inform me and I will set up a security detail for you.”

Clarke’s hands fisted behind her back and she spoke to the wall when she answered, keeping her boiling emotions under rigid control. “The group had three gunners. The regulated amount for any party over eight to have with them.”

“I wasn’t talking about the others. The next time you leave the gates you will have a guard with you or I will send orders that you are not to leave. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal. You only care about the welfare of those you deem worthy and the rest can do with what they can scrounge up to protect themselves.”

“Watch your tone, young lady,” she barked. “I may be your mother, but I am also the Chancellor. You will show me respect.”

“Earn it.” Clarke snapped, rearing forward with a snarl, control finally lost. That always seemed the case when she was in a room with her mother for more than ten minutes.

Abby recoiled as if she’d been slapped. Straightening slowly her face reverted back to the cold distant face that had become her default. “If you disobey me, I will have you confined to your rooms.”

“Perfect way to show your unbiased control over the camp, Chancellor.” Clarke mocked. “I’m sure the others will all agree with the way of using military guards to keep your adult child locked up for missing bedtime.” She turned and left, refusing to let her mother to issue anymore orders as a Chancellor. The consequences of which, if disregarded, would have severe repercussions.

Ones given as parental mandated Clarke had no problem in ignoring.

* * *

She knocked on the metal door before opening it.

“Clarke,” Octavia greeted standing from the back corner of the cell. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be coming by for a while.”

“I meet someone out in the woods today.” Clarke opened softly. Octavia froze like a wolf catching a scent.  “I think you know him. ‘Bout this tall, dark eyes, shaved head, mean look.”

“Lincoln!” The girl burst, rushing the bars. “You saw Lincoln?”

“Yeah, he tried to kidnap me.”

She frowned. “And you’re still here?”

“I convinced him to let me go. But never mind that. I’m seeing him tonight. I want his help getting your people to work with me-- mine. And I need your help in convincing him.”

Octavia drew back from the bars. Turning her back on Clarke she paced the floor.

“You promised,” Clarke swallowed as she tried to keep calm and not let anxiety swamp her, “if I did this for you, you would help me. You gave your word. We want the same thing, Octavia; for our people not to murder each other into extinction.”

“We will not be to ones to lose.” Octavia spat proudly over her shoulder.

“I know your people are fearsome fighters but trust me when I tell you that thousands of you will die if you attack us. There will be no winner. There will just be death and the few that survive all the weaker for it.”

She remained staunchly turned away. Clarke sighed, defeated. Without Octavia’s cooperation she had no idea what her next move would have to be. Well, she had a few more hours to figure it out. She made to leave.

“The _heda_ is our leader,” Clarke froze in place, eyes locking on Octavia's back. “The top of the top. A person becomes the _heda_ when they kill the previous one in a formal challenge. Lexa has rules for seven years.” Slowly the woman turned. And slowly she made her way back to the bars. Back to Clarke standing there holding her breath, hope growing in her chest. “In that time she has brought eight more clans under the Coalition creating the Army of the Twelve. She holds council with the Chiefs of each clan and her word is law. She is the one you need to convince for this alliance to work.”

“Octavia, thank yo-”

She held her hand up sitting cross legged just on the other side of the bars. “She is the one you need to convince but first you need to know who you need to go through to get to her. First, there’s Gustus…”

* * *

 Two hours later she finally slipped out of Octavia’s cell. Head swimming with the names, descriptions, and power rankings of the ruling _Geda_ . She would have stayed longer but even now she was running perilously close to late. All of the _Heda_ Lexa's inner court had been laid out to her in as comprehensive manner as Octavia could manage in the limited time. Those who would be hindrances and who would kill her out right if given the slightest chance.

Clarke had not idea how she would keep all of it straight. Octavia had flatly refused to talk into the recorder.  “When you die, this dies with you. My bargain was is you and you alone.”

So Clarke was left with her memory and the hope that when she had names to match with faces she would still recall everything. If she ever got the chance.

She rubbed her face exhausted. He head was killing her, as were her feet and calves. Her right knee was swelling and for the life of her she had no idea how it had happened. She had rope burn on either side of her mouth from that stupid gag and she was rapidly gaining on forty-eight hours with very little sleep.

And she still had to slip out of camp, undetected. Meet up with a man she had no idea she could trust. Set up another meeting with even more people she didn’t trust. And hopefully come to an agreement so everyone she ever knew didn’t die quickly in a war or slowly by starvation.

What the hell was she thinking? She couldn’t do this. She was an eighteen years old kid. She should have been worrying about her Medical examination. Or if the boy from bio-engineering thought she was cute. Or if the girl from Agro’s lips were as soft as they looked.

The boy from Bio, Thoman, had been on the second ship, the one that didn’t even make it into earth's atmosphere. The girl, Mira, had committed suicide when she had learned her mother was never going to wake up from an oxygen related coma.

Clarke herself was supposed to have died twenty-three days ago on her eighteenth birthday. In that time she had been released from prison, been pardoned for her crime, landed on earth, and had far surpassed what a low level med-tech would have been allowed to do by at least three years.

She let out a long sigh, pushing back her lack of confidence. She had to do this. If she failed at this… she’d figure out what to do next from their. There was nothing else she could do except continue.

“Hard day, princess?” The words were sneered from her left.

Way pass her threshold of fear for the day, she merely turned to see Murphy staring pointedly ahead.

“You didn’t tell my mother about this morning.”

Her mother was not a good liar. She was, however, very good at manipulating her words. By using precise wording in making her point and delivering on what she exactly promised she got people to believe what she said. It was a key factor in her popularity as a chancellor, making it seem that her words could be trusted.

In this instance, if she had gotten her information from anyone besides Marcus she would have used the word ‘sources’ instead of the direct name.

“So? What’s it to you?” He questioned defensively, as if not being an asshole was something he tried to hide as often as he could.

What was it to her? Why did that matter to her when everything was just two steps from going to shit? She didn’t know why, all she did know was that it did.

And the Chancellor did order her to take a guard with her if she were to leave camp. Yes, she had specifically said she was to be informed and she specifically was to set up the detail. But, again, the spirit of the orders were what Clarke contented herself with.

And it wasn’t like the alternative of going alone was that good of an idea to start with.

So she turned to the annoying dick with a big mouth, though not as big as she had originally thought, who just happened to be a guard, and asked, “How good are you with a gun?”

* * *

 translations:

 _Heda_  (Commander)

 _Geda_ (the people)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your comments, questions, and suggestions. They all make me smile.


	10. Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was suppose to be one but now its two. Story of this story.  
> Thanks to Mich who commented on the last chapter.

The camp consisted of the central crash zone surrounded by a twelve foot wall of electrified fencing that included the immediate fifty yard area from the ship. The fence had been the first thing to be completed, but almost immediately after the Arkers had set to building homes for themselves.

Clarke was keeping them in the shadows of these hand made buildings that had quickly filled up the open area almost to the point of bursting.

Even in the pouring rain, groups were eager to stake a claim to bits of this new earth. This had led to several hundred cases of exhaustion and illness, a dozen worrying cases of immersion foot syndrome, fourteen deaths from collapsed structures and countless other injuries.

Things had calmed down a bit when actual engineering and architecture schematics were made and adhered to. Now the worst they tended to get was a broken bone from someone being stupid and falling of a roof or a dozen stitches when someone sliced their hand on the edge of some metal siding.

“Wait, we're going outside the gate?” Murphy blurted when she made it obvious they were heading to the fence at the North West side of camp

She barely spared him a glance over her shoulder. “Why else would you think I needed a gunner?”

“I don’t know.” Murphy speculated, “wanted a shooting buddy?”

When it became apparent just how dangerous the ground was, the chancellor had ordered the engineer techs to make replica pellets out of easier to obtain components so they didn’t waist any of their true bullets.  She also set up a mandatory hour a week for every Ark citizen, with the time elevating for how often an individual ventured outside. Cooks had the minimum as they rarely left the compound and liked it that way. Laundry personal and Gatherers received about ten. Guards, as they also accounted for their hunters, would spend as few as twenty hours in practice.

“At eleven o'clock at night?”

He shrugged. “You seem to keep irregular hours.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. She was a decent shot with a pistol up to about fifty yards. With one of the guard guns and a sight she could hit the target at about a hundred but the bullet tended to drop to the left of where she was aiming. “I’m perfectly capable of completing firing practice alone.” 

He unslung his gun from around his neck and offered it out to her. “Then why don’t you take my gun and go have fun in the woods.”

She shook her head checking around the corner of the building for movement. “Too dangerous.”

“What do you mean too dangerous?” He questioned.

Instead of answering she slipped around the building, jogging across the pathway to the next one. Peeking out she check again for movement. They were still a couple dozen yards from the fence. This small sliver of the camp didn’t have standing guards as the other sides closer to the tree line and the main gate did. But there was always the chance of one of them making rounds. Too much hinged on her not being caught.

“What exactly are we going to be doing out there?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Murphy’s booming voice came up behind her.

“Would you please shut up,” she hissed quietly between clenched teeth, scanning to making sure no one heard him.

He grabbed her shoulder, jerking her back, pushing and holding her against the side of the building.

“Look princess,” he began, “I don’t like being manipulated. So tell me what is so important you need to go out there tonight but so dangerous you can’t take a weapon with you.” She gave him a mutinous glare. “You’ve made this my business now and like you said; I’m good at looking after my own self interests.”

How much to tell him? It wasn’t that she needed him but his presence, if she were caught, would temper the Chancellor's rage. And if this Lincoln did bring others, or if he try to kidnap her, she’d have no way of escape without some outside help. So she needed to give him enough to keep him from walking away out of pride but not so much as he walked away out of fear for his safety.

She shoved him off her with a solid push to the chest, weaving around him to slip into the shadow of the next house. “I’m going to see a _geda._ ”

“What the Hubble is a gawda.” His frustration was evident in his voice but he still followed her to the fence.

This next part she had to do quick.

Kneeling next the fence she pulled the two metal twelve inch rods from the waist of her pants and the roll of 10 gauge copper wire from her jacket pocket. She had swiped all of it from an open engineers tech’s bag left unattended in the hallway on her way to Octavia. The open wall panel and and loose tools suggested someone had been trying to fix something. Clarke had helped herself to a pair of wire cutters as well.

She took one of the bars and wrapped the end tightly in the copper wire. Unrolling another eighteen inches and cutting it free from the spool she straightened it as best as she could.

“What in Hawking’s name are you doing?”

“I’m going to short out this section of the fence.” She informed him, going through the same process with the other post.

“That has a over thirty thousand volts coursing through it. You’re not going to short it out with that dinky little wire.”

“It actually has thirty four thousand volts.” She grunted, using her weight to force the beveled rod into the dirt at a bit of an angle away from the fence. “But it only has 40 milliamps. So yes,” she shuffled three feet down the line and shoved the second rod in, “I am going to short out the fence with this dinky little wire.”

Using the wire cutters again she manipulated the free end of the wire into a little hook. Checking one last time that the rod was secure in the earth, she stretched the wire over the fence and let go, jumping back quickly. The wire bounced off, shooting a little spark and just missing hooking onto the fence. Clarke ran her rubber soled boot over the downed wire to remove any lingering static charge and tried again.

This time it stuck. The little hook latching on and complete the circuit for the left side of the fence. She then moved to the other one, hooking it on the first try. Now for the moment of truth.

Not wanting to chance grabbing for the wire and getting stuck to it if her muscles seized, she tapped the back of her fist to the section between her two grounds. Nothing. Taking a deep breath she laid the back of her hand more firmly on the wire. Nothing. She sighed. Bending, she slipping under the dead section to the other side.

Standing she dusted herself off, turning to look at Murphy. “Are you in or out?”

There was hesitation, and maybe a bit of fear in his eyes. “I though this was supposed to keep things out.”

“I don’t think many of the natives have advanced wiring technology or the tools necessary to do this.”

“You must have a death wish or something.” She shrugged. He huffed, seeming to move past his trepidations, and slid under the fence. “Fine. But you owe me.”

“I owe you nothing for appeasing your own curiosity.”

“You know what the old earth saying was about that.” He grumbled dusting himself off and resettling his gun strap comfortably across his chest.

“Yes,” she said as she lead the way into the forest, “but satisfaction brought it back.”

* * *

 

Translation:

 _Geda_ (The People)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment. Let me know what you might like to see when the rest of the cast makes their debut. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!


	11. Preperations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters this week.

“This looks like a good enough spot.”

They were on a slight rise at the north east of camp. She had led them in a meandering route through the trees to get to this spot keeping them in the trees and out of range of the camp guards. Didn’t want to chance them thinking they were hostile indigenous scouts and sound the alarm. Or shoot them.

She turned on Murphy, hands on her hips. “Watch for hand signals and don’t jump the gun.”

He frowned. “Was that supposed to be funny?”

She shrugged, “I thought so. Do a warning shot first. If you have to, shoot to injure not to kill. I’d prefer him to not even know you were here.”

“Him?” He latched onto the word, “what the hell are you up to?”

She was already picking her way back down the hill. “An appointment with a native.”

* * *

She knew that the _geda_ man would have been there for hours already. Scoping out the territory, getting the lay of the land, and looking for hidie-holes to house his comrades or where she might have stashed her own. The name of the game was to be the first to get there, set up base and get the best advantage. He would have brought men on the off chance she brought some with her.

Clarke, however, had made the conscious decision to not play the game. She had been busy enough as it was without having to double think what her opponent would do. Instead she added her own variables to the equation; a gun and marksman. The three hundred yards from where she stashed Murphy to the meeting sight, plus the added height of the rise would prove no difficulty if things went south.

She angled her path so that it would seem she was coming in from a westerly direction and seem straight from the camp. It wouldn’t be the end of the world is they saw her coming from the wrong direction but she wanted to avoid any questions if at all possible. And it would be even better if they looked to the wrong area for her back up.

She chose an area where the trees thinned, opening up a bit, trying to give Murphy the best angle to work with that she could manage. The moon was about a hand’s breadth above the top of the mountain in front of her and if she shifted just right she could pick out the slight shine of the metal siding of Alpha station through the trees behind her. All she had to do now was wait until the _geda_ decided to show themselves.

She didn’t have to wait long.

“You showed up.” Clarke jumped, quickly shifting her area of focus to behind her instead of deeper into the forest where she had it.

He stood between her and the immediate path back to camp. It was a smart move. As a scare tactic it made her feel isolated, cut off from the perceived safety of the camp and an easy escape route. It also kept her focus on him instead of the deeper shadows behind her where his comrades no doubt were.

If she had any lingering doubts about the _geda_ status down here, this interaction laid them to rest. They were not just hunters use to only tracking wild animals; they were warriors use to tracking much cleverer prey. And in constant enough strife with their neighbors for the relatively young man before her to be an expert at the game of war.

She was a novice. But what she had learned from seeing countless training clips from hundreds of years of wars was to never let the opponent know you were afraid. So instead of stepping back like he no doubt intended for her to do, drawing her farther away from help and closer to tightening the noose, she stepped forward to greet him.

“I though it would be rude not to.” She held out her hand to shake. “I’m Clarke, by the way. We were interrupted before I could properly introduce myself.” His face gave away nothing as he stared down at her. “You’re Lincoln right?”

“I want Octavia.”

“Good,” she retracted her hand getting down to business. “I want a meeting with your _heda.”_

That got a reaction from him, a slight tensing of his shoulders and a sharper look in his eye. “You will take me to Octavia now.”

“I will _bring_ you Octavia when you set up my meeting with Lexa.”

“Where did you learn that name.” Cold menace leaked into his voice, only noticeable because of its distinct lack seconds before.

Her body screamed at her to get away but she forced herself to stay put and remain visibly calm. “It's amazing what you can learn when the right leverage is applied.”

“If you have hurt her in any way-”

“Relax, she’s fine. Maybe a bit hungry but I’m working on that too. It's amazing how difficult it is to smuggle a dozen people food when you’re supposed to have no contact with them. It’s even harder when-” She was babbling. She did that sometimes when she was terrified, her mind locking on one specific to articulate ignoring the larger matter. “I need a meeting with your leader. Set it up.”

“A dozen.”

Her mind faltered. “What?”

“You said ‘a dozen people’. You have more than just Octavia locked in that metal nightmare, alive?” There was genuine shock in his voice.

“Uh, yeah. We hold thirteen of your people _._ Sampson, Penn, Ferdi, Sindri, Kolas-”

“Sindri. He’s alive? Are you sure.” He demanded.

“That is what he said his name was. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin. Good looking and charming, kinda a flirt.”

He turned reflective, standing quietly as he seemed to think through something. “With this I may be able to get that meeting you want. If I do, you swear to bring Octavia to me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know how long it will take to convince the others to come.”

“Others? I will only be meeting with your leader.”

“ _Koken plan_! It’s not that simple.” He burst, finally showing some signs of being frustrated.

She shrugged. “Make it that simple.”

“I can not demand an audience with the Commander then drag her into the forest, unescorted, to meet with known enemies.”

Clare mulled that over, a new, more elaborate plan starting to take from. “Fine. I will allow ten escorts. I’ll bring the same, including myself. Set it up for right here, a week from now.”

“A week,” he protested.

She help up her hand to silence him. “That is for how much longer I can guarantee all of the prisoners continued health without outside interference. Food is becoming a tightly regulated commodity and-- I will discuss it more with your commander.”

They stard at each other for a long minute. Both no doubt weighing how far one could trust the other. But hope is a powerful motivator.

“I will set it up.”

* * *

Murphy was quiet the whole way back, brooding. He had met her at the base of the rise with the gun slung over his shoulder and a glower that could solder metal. Without a word he had turned and led the way back to their access point.

She expected him to ditch her the second they were back inside the fence but he had stood by as she quickly dismantle the breech. He even walked her all the way back to **E** block were all senior med techs kept rooms.

“Well, goodnight.” She said awkwardly turning to go down the hall.

“Clarke,” she twisted so see him staring at her. “I was serious before, I don’t like being manipulated. The next time you come to me for help you better be prepared to lay everything out. Goodnight.”

He continued down the main corridor without sparing her another glance.

She stared after him, his words echoing through her head, ‘better be prepared.’ She had a little over a week to set her new, completely crazy plan into motion. And Murphy was right. If she was going to have any chance of pulling it off, she was going to need some help.

And she better start preparing now.

The start to those preparations had Clarke standing outside a door in block **A** at close to one o’clock in the morning, knocking. And knocking. And knocking.

Finally, after almost fifteen minutes of pounding, the door opened a crack. A face stared at her through it. A face she knew almost as well, and for almost as long, as she had known her own.

“I need your help.” She pleaded.

The was a pause, a seconds hesitation. With a sigh, the door was fully opened.

* * *

Translations:

 _geda_ (The People)

 _heda_ (Commander)

 _Koken plan_ (crazy woman)

 


	12. Waste of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Write for your comment, here's the answer.  
> Thanks to lettucebfrank (awesome name btw)  
> Thanks to Dzaya85 for the indepth comment.
> 
> And special thanks to everyone for sticking with me. You are the best :)

Wells Jaha stood in dirty clothes and half laced boots, an old scotch bottle clasped in his hand. The original alcohol was long gone but the glass bottle had no doubt been filled and drained several times with whatever numbing agent he could get his hands on. The current option most likely being Jasper and Monty’s moonshine.

In the age old earth custom, Thelonious Jaha had remained on board to proverbially go down with his ship. The city had help the send off ceremony last week because that was when the original calculations had set that the Ark would have run out of Oxygen. He was not taking his father’s acknowledged death well.

“What can I do you for, Clarke?” The question was asked as he tipped the bottle to his lips and took a large swallow.

She stepped around him into the unkempt room turning to face him as he shut the door. “How long will it take you to sober up?”

He shrugged, catching himself on a chair when the movement unbalanced him slightly. “That depends on what time it is.”

“About 1 o'clock in the morning.”

“Then sometime after noon. But its gonna have to be something really important for me to want to make it til then without a drink.” He downed another shot, watching her over the neck of the bottle, as he sat heavily into the chair. “So, what kind of help do you need?”

“I have to stage a coup that will get my mother to meet with the leader of the Grounder army to talk peace.“ He nodded along with what she was saying. “We only have a week to do it and our group can only consists of ten people.”

He was tipping the battle back to his lips when the words finally registered to him. He choked on the liquor he sat up so fast. “What, are you serious? You can’t be serious, Clarke. It would be treason! It would be plotting against your mother and all of Arcadia. It could mean your death! Please tell me you haven’t been that stupid!”

“It’s not stupid wanting to save everyone.”

“It is if you get yourself killed in the process.” He slame from his chair, the bottle falling to the ground and sloshing out some of its contents. “You don’t even know if this would be saving anyone. How do you even know you can trust those people? How do you know they aren't just using this as a chance to slaughter us? She’s your mother, Clarke, and you’re willingly sending her into a trap. By Hawking, you’re setting it up!”

She stood quietly in his anger. “This is necessary for the good of the Ark. After this works out, the Chancellor will see that. So please, help me.”

“Save your self righteous bullshit for somebody else.”

She stiffened. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

“You forget I grew up with my father being the Chancellor. I know when people are just spewing rhetoric even they don’t believe.”

“Your father gave up his life so that you and everyone else could have a chance to live. That’s not spewing rhetoric. Do you really think he wanted you to hole yourself up and drink yourself to death? You don’t want to help me, that's fine. But do not waste your father's legacy this way.”

“Don’t pretend that you care now that you need me.” He spat.

“I’ve always cared Wells.” She softened slightly. “And I would have came to you eventually regardless. I’m sorry about your father. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you started sliding down hill. And I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you since.” She swallowed thickly. “I know what it’s like to lose a father. I know how hard it is. All I wanted was to be left alone, to not have to think about it. But I need you Wells, I need someone I can fully trust and you are the only one on that list. Please, I need your help.”

He stood there staring at her.

She missed her friend. She missed having someone she could lean on, just a little bit, to lighten the load. She wanted to go to him, to wrap her arms around him and hug him. To share for a moment the shared sense of loss. He saw her waver towards him and that broke what ever trance that he was in.

“That was a pretty little speech.” The mocking words were daggers to Clarke's heart, that without her say-so had started to hope. Carelessly he bent down and picked up the mostly empty bottle and dumped half of it down his throat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “My answer is still no. Now get out.”

* * *

Clarke didn’t often waste time on tears. She had learned early on that they didn’t change anything. Toys were still broken, people still got sick, and the dead didn’t come back.

But that night she cried her eyes out.

The remembrance of her father was a hole ripped in her already raw heart. Wells abandonment tore at her. Besides her mother and father, he had always been there for her. Another Phoenix kid with a parent on the council. Kids at Studies had dubbed them the prince and princess of the Ark, not as a term of respect but as a way to isolate them in an already isolated world.

And she was scared and there was not body to share in the fear. In a week she could be dead. How many would be die in the meantime? Would she have incited a war? How many would die then? There hadn’t been a day since they had landed that didn’t see at least one of their numbers have to be buried. The south side of camp was littered with mass graves.

She couldn’t tell if the earth's means of disposing of the dead was better or worse than the Ark’s. If having a grave to stand over and knowing a loved one was rotting feet away was a better way for those left to cope. Or if never having a tangible place, forever knowing a frozen corpse floated in endless space gave more closer; out of sight out of mind.

Would she have wanted to be able to see the resting place of her father? Would that have made it easier losing him? Would it have quieted the nightmares of not being able to do anything to stop or help in the end?

Was Wells right? Was the thing that was going to lead to the final death of the Ark something she set up? Blood and pain and death seemed to be the only things she could be counted on to offer.

She cried and cried and cried. And finally, she slept.

And dreamt of drowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you have questions about whats happening? I should have answers or I will find them.  
> Do you want to see something happen? Let me now and I'll see if I can work with it.  
> Did you notice mistakes or inconsistencies? I appreciate being told so I can fix them.  
> Please leave a comment and thank you for reading.


	13. Medical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Wright, Makdawg, lettucebfrank, and ekayla for your lovely, lovely comments.

From one second to the next, Clarke just found herself awake. She hadn't even registered she had opened her eyes until she had to blink and the blurriness of her sight shifted ever so slightly. Only then did she realize just how much they burned. How long had they been open? How long had she just been staring at nothing not even realizing?

Reaching up to rub at them she had to stop because the cramp in her shoulder wanted no part in completing that range of motion. It was then that the rest of her aches and pains made themselves known causing a groan to slip out. She groaned again when the events of yesterday came back to her.

She had walked miles in unfamiliar land, left a trail of _de-liys_ , was captured by a _geda_ , set up a meeting with said _geda_ to see him again, had a row with her mother, stuffed generations of _geda_ politics in her head over the course of a few short hours, went to the midnight meeting, then came back to have another fight, only to curl up in her room and lick her metaphorical wounds.

Clarke should have worried about her actual wounds.

She forced herself up, her body protesting every movement. Finally in a sitting position she took stock of everything.

Her head was pounding in time with her heart beat. Nothing new there, but it had probably been exacerbated from her crying fit. Her face felt all puffy but her sight was clearing up, the corners becoming encrusted by the drying rheum.

Her shoulders were sore, her neck was  tight, and her back had a definite catch in it. She had abrasions on her forearms, no dough when she had been forced up against that tree and the rough texture of its bark. Yesterday her knee had been swollen. This morning she tugged up her pant leg to see that it was still swollen but there was also some definite bruising.

And it hurt. Pretty much everything hurt. Her hips hurt, her legs hurt, her ankles hurt. The only things that didn’t hurt, surprisingly enough, were her toes. Well most of her toes. Her left pinky was curiously bruised.

She contemplated just rolling back up into bed. Forgetting for however long that the world was shit and she had to slog through it watching death and destruction flow in its wake. Doom was inevitable at this point. She was only one person and no where near qualified enough to hope to pull off any last minute ditch efforts to save anyone. She couldn’t even be there to save the people most important in her life.  

It was her thoughts that finally pushed her to stand. Better to deal with the set standards of reality instead of the grotesque fantasies her mind was able to conjure. Alone she would wallow. At least at her job she could speed the time by keeping her hands busy.

So she got up, got dressed in her second set of semi-fresh clothes and shuffled to the medward in a daze.

“Good morning, Clarke.” Palomina greeted falling into step with her, the girls honey gold in its habitual ponytail bouncing behind her at their brisk pace. Originally from sanitation, she had volunteered with medical after the crash as an assistant because she knew basic first aid. Smart and quick to the point, as well as truly caring, Clarke had been grateful for her help ever since. “We already have three people in with that cough that’s been going around and a gentleman with a rash on his groin.” She informed, scrolling through the tech pad that was never far from hand.

“You and Glass take a look at the people with the coughs. If anything looks different or if your unsure come ask me. Is Littmann here yet?”

She fiddled with her pad for a second. “Yes.”

“Give him the rash and anything serious or life threatening that comes in. If he needs a second pair of hands call in Westly.”

“Why not you?”

“I didn’t sleep well last night, I’d be a liability. If you need me I’ll be in Storage organizing and cleaning.”

She looked up from the tech pat to give Clarke a concerned look. “If you’re that tired shouldn’t you lay down and rest?”

She cast the taller girl a glance who immediately turned back to her digital device. “Right, you’re here for questions and cleaning. I’ll let the others know.”

She veered off as Clarke continued to Storage.

* * *

“Clarke, you have a patient.” Palomina sang dipping her head into the storage room several hours later.

“If it's serious I told you give it to Littmann.” Clarke sang back, slightly annoyed, not bothering to look as she typed in the quantities of Luminal pills they had left into the data system.

“I know but it’s nothing serious, he’s just asking for you directly. Do you want me to tell him to come back?” Her body language and frown clearly stated that would be the wrong call for a medical practitioner.

“No,” Clarke sighed, knowing the girl was right. She began scooping the pills back into their bottles. “I’ll see him. Thank you for informing me.”

Palomina smiled. “Not a problem. He’s on cot three.”

Clarke stood with a groan, her knee nearly buckling under her weight it was so stiff. Bracing herself on the table she reached down and tried to massage it out.

Palomina frowned. “Have you taken anything for that?”

Clarke eased herself into her lab coat. “I’m fine.”

“Clarke, if your that bad you should-”

“Thank you for your concern but I’m fine.” Clarke interrupted, hiding her limp as she walked past the girl. “Are there any other patients that need to be looked at?”

“Yes, Kidda came in for her fifteen week ultrasound.”

Clarke sighed, sad and angry all over again. If the Council knew that the Ark was dying why did they allow dozens of women the licensing to conceive? They knew they were basically sentencing these women to death. The added tax on their body coupled with the depletion of oxygen usually meant that the fetus could basically suffocate in the womb as it tried to siphon off oxygen from its mother. Of the twenty-four women that had been given the right to have a child in the last eight months, five had made it to earth. Kidda was the only one still carrying.

“How is she doing?”

“Momma and baby are doing well. She’s a little underweight, but I’ve partitioned the council to re-grant her the four Nut-i bars as well as her portion of what the Gatherers bring in.”

“In the meantime give her two days worth from our stores to fill in hers until her petition is granted.”

“Clarke, I can’t.” The girl stuttered panicked. “The box is over half empty and we won't be given another one for over a week. I don’t have the clearance to authorize that.”

Clarke took the tech pad from the girl's hands created a prescription release and signed it with her name before handing it back. “There. I’ve authorized it. And I’ll see about getting another box from Distribution.” She stopped outside of the divider for cot three. “Now go make sure Kidda’s okay and let’s get her out of here as soon as we can. I don’t like pregnant women around all these germs.”

On board the Ark they had a completely separate ward for prenatal care. Down here they were lucky to have a dedicated Medical field at all.

“Right away. She’s going to be so happy about this.” There were tears in her eyes as she loped away.

Clarke deflated for a second. She was happy she did it, but now she had another promise to keep. Taking a deep breath she pushed that aside and moved into the partition.

“What brings you -- Wells?” She gasped, shocked.

He was hunkered down on the cot, curled in on himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist. At his name his head shot up. “Clarke.”

She rushed to his side. His face was covered in sweat. His breath was slightly labored. “What are your symptoms?”

“It would seem I’m suffering from withdrawals.” He gave her a slight, pained smile.

She laid her head on his shoulder as her heartbeat slowed. For a minute there she had thought that something was seriously wrong despite Palomino's assurance that it wasn’t.

“Hey,” his arms came up around her. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

“Asswipe. I didn’t need the heart attack to go with it.” She straightened and pulled out the little pen light from her lab coat pocket. “When was your last drink?”

“A bit after you left.”

“Any nausea? Vomiting?” She shined it in both of his eyes checking their reactions.

“A bit. I tried to drink some water about an hour ago and wasn’t able to keep it down. And I’m having some stomach pain.”

“Dehydration.” She murmured to herself as she put a stethoscope in her ears and held it against his heart. Then moved it over to his lungs. “Deep breath. Good. Now again. Good. Okay so your heart rate is okay but if you notice any racing or a shaky pulse you need to come back here immediately. I’m going to go get something that should start helping you immediately.”

A quick stop off into Storage and she was back.

“Ah, is that the fabled ‘good shit’ that Jasper and Monty pray for?”

“It is.” She busied herself hanging it on the I.V. pole. “Okay, if you’d lay down I’ll start getting this stuff into you.”

He complied. “What exactly is in that.”

“Mainly water, with salt vitamins and some sugar to make sure it doesn’t just sluff off.” She whipped the bend in his arm with some gauze dipped in a sterilization solution and set the needle. “You should start feeling better her in a minute.”

He blinked. “Oh, wow. This is some good shit.”

She smiled turning to clean up her mess. “You should be good in about forty minutes. So just relax and tell me if you feel any more nausea. Do you want a Nut-i to eat?”

“Maybe later.” He frowned at her, finally taking in her appearance without having pain numbing his senses. “You don’t look so hot yourself.”

She turned away quickly tapping into her tech pad all of Wells information, including symptoms and treatment. “I’m fine. Just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Nightmares?” He asked softly and watched as her shoulders tensed. “Yeah, I’ve been having them too. The alcohol helped quiet them when they got too loud.” There was a long beat of silence. “Clarke, I know you’re mad at Abby right now, but are you sure you want to do this.”

“My emotions have nothing to do with this, this is for the good of the Ark. We need the _geda’s_ help.”

He let out a gusty sigh. “I still think this is crazy.”

“Understandable.” She stood up and fiddled with the flow of the drip just to give her hands something to do.

“But I won't let you do this on your own. So what do you have planned out so far?”

“I got us a meeting with then. And I know the Chancellor needs to be there.”

“That’s it?” He bawled aghast, shooting her a wide eyed look.

“It’s been less than sixteen hours,” she bit out, “I’m working on it.”

He sighed, rubbing his face with his unencumbered hand. “Well you only gave yourself a week to work with. It’s time to hustle.”  

“And we will. Right after you’re done with this we’ll go visit the others that I’ve enlisted into my treasonous activities.”

* * *

Translations:

 _de-liys_ (lily)

 _Geda_ (the People)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not mean for this whole Wells thing to be so dramatic, it just kinda happened that way. Wells was never going to let her down, and never in a million years would he had told Abby. This was just kind of an emotional time for both of them and the alcohol and danger and sadness didn't mix (drink responsible kids). 
> 
> I don't like begging for comments, but please comment. The feed back is greatly sought after.


	14. Ensemble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Thanks to Wright, ekayla, AutumnGotEm, and Brave_Princess for your comments.

Sending a message to Monty via the tech pad's messaging system, Clarke asked him to grab the guard Murphy and meet in Wells’s room.

She was still debating with herself why she decided to include Murphy in this little rebellion of theirs and the only thing she could come up with was that for some strange reason, in some small way, she trusted him. Not bothering to knock on the metal door she pushed it open nodding to the two who where already inside, Wells behind her. Murphy frowned when saw who followed her.

“In true regal fashion, the princess turns to her prince to rescue her.” His face and tone were mocking as he dropping into flourishing bow. Just because she sorta-maybe trusted him didn’t mean he wasn’t an ass.

Clarke turned to Wells. “You get to be the princess.”

After a brief hesitance at seen intruders in his room he followed her as they all aligned themselves around the table in the center. “Why do I always have to play the princess in your schemes?”

“Because I’m better with a weapon then you are.”

“If weapons requirements are needed, then I can play the prince.” Murphy volunteered cocky.

“You get to be the jester.” Clarke snapped. Seeing in the hurt flash on his face she quickly amended. “You’re the knight. You keep our backs safe. Wells is the prince,” she rolled her eyes at his smug look, “he gets to talk to the queen and get her outside the gate when the time comes.” His face fell and he looked almost quessy. Haha, take that.

“What about me?” Monty asked.

“You get to be the advisor. Make sure we don’t do anything stupid.”

“I thought that was my job.” Wells put in.

“You wanted to be the prince, prince.”

Wells gave her a dirty look. “Guess all that leaves is the princess, princess.”

She shook her head. “Nope, all that leaves is the bait.”

“No.” He adamantly refused. The other two frowned as well.

“See reason,” she stressed. “I’m the one whose setting this all up. I’m the one they have some bit of connection with. And I’m the one that knows Octavia. It has to be me.”

“How do you know they won't kill you when they get what they want?” Wells argued.

“I … haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Really, Clarke. Of all the half baked--” He threw his hands up in the air and stormed away from the table.

“Why do we even need bait?” Murphy pondered over their bickering. “Aren’t we setting up a meeting between our chancellor and those grounder people.”

“I made a deal with one of them that if they set up this meeting I would hand over a prisoner. My mom would never allow that. And as much as my personal feelings are concerned I can’t let the Chancellor of the Ark walk into a trap that I know will be waiting. So we need to give them what they want but also get them to move to a secondary location where the Chancellor will be waiting.”

“Do we know what time this meeting is going to take place?” Monty questioned as they all continued to ignored Wells ranting and stomping.

“Not yet. I gave my guy a week to get everything set up so we need to plan for any contingencies that may arise.”

Seeing no one was paying attention to his very valid points Wells returned to the table. “So we don’t know when we need to set this up, we don’t know where it's going to happen and we don’t know how many of them are going to show up.”

“I told them ten,” Clarke offered, “but I suggest we plan for more.”

“Great.” Wells sarcastically put in rubbing at the frustration tightening his face.

Clarke looked around at the faces all caught up in their own thoughts. “Any ideas?”

“We go back to bed before we get ourselves killed?” Murphy offered. “I have guard duty in two hours and don’t really want to get punishment detail for being late again.”

“So your fine for plotting treason but you don’t want to be even a little late for your shift.” Wells mocked.

Murphy shrugged, a snarky gin on his lips. “What can I say, I’m a simple man.”

“You know what--”

“Guys can we please stop fighting.” Clarke interrupted. As much as she respected Wells’s ability in most things, if he and Murphy came to blows she didn’t think Wells would come out on top.

“How are you going to get the prisoner to her people without her ditching you and giving us nothing to barter with?” Monty piped in. He had been standing on the other side of the table thinking as the other two were having their pissing match

“I-uh, don’t know.” Clarke answered meekly.

“We can tie her up.” Murphy offered.

“Yeah, like the warrior woman wouldn’t be able to make a break for it with her hands tied.” Murphy frowned at Wells’s sass.

“We can knock her unconscious.” The look he shot the black man said just how much he would love to test the idea out right that second.

Clarke stepped in to try and rein them back on topic. “And how do you expect me to carry an unconscious woman through the camp. That’s not going to look strange or anything. And the _geda_ would tear me to pieces before I was able to open my mouth to exsplain.”

“We could drug her.” Again all eye turned to Monty. “Well, we could. Something mild enough that she is still moble under her own power but strong enough so that Clarke could guide her.”

“That’s … brilliant.” Clarke said, awed, mind already running through the possibilities.

“Do we have anything in medical that can still do that?” Wells asked, trying to think back himself on what they had been able to salvage from different wreckages.

“Yes, yes we do.” Clarke said thinking on the pills she had been counting when Palomina had told her she had a patient. “I would just need to get the dosage right.”

“Thats one problem down, just two more majors ones and the hundreds of little ones that could all blow up in our face.” Wells counted off on his finger. “How do we get your mom outside the gate. How do we get the grounders to your mom. No wait, I’m sorry, there are three major ones. How do we not get you killed in the process.”

“The last ones simple. Murphy.”

The man is question rolled forward on his heels. “I’m sorry, what now?”

“He’ll be one a rise a few hundred yards away with a gun. He’ll keep my back.”

“I’m sorry, what now.” He repeated, a strong note of annoyance in his voice.

“You did it before.”

“I was _coerced_ into doing it before.” Clarke rolled her eyes at his melodrama.

“And the other two?” Wells prompted.

Clarke turned to Monty. The other two seeing her stare turned to look at him too. Startled to find himself in the center of attention again, he blurted. “I’ve come up with my one idea. The rest are on you.”

“These are the people you’ve chosen to help you?” Wells braced his hands on the table and hung his head. “I need a drink.”

“They know what's happening. We don’t have the time to bring in new people and fill them in. Besides, how many people do you think I have connections to?”

Murphy raise his hand. “I would still liked to be filled in.”

Monty followed suit, raising his hand also, albeit a bit meeker. “I would like more information as well.”

“Okay.” Clarke took a deep bracing breath trying to think of where to begin. So much had happened in such a short amount of time she found herself being a little confused by everything. How in Hubble’s name was she supposed to explain it to someone else?  “I think we should start by introducing you to a _geda._ ”

* * *

Hesitantly, Clarke knocked on the cell door before opening it.

“Clarke.” Octavia smiled, standing from her cross legged position to come the the bars and greet her. Her smile died when she saw the other people enter after her.

“Everyone, this is Octavia. We need to make sure we get her safely back to her people or this all implodes.” She turned to Octavia. “This is the merry band of misfits that's going to set up the meeting on our end. Murphy, Monty and Wells. Guys, say hi.”

The boys all waved tentatively as the grounder girl. “Hi.”

She looked them over with dark eyes that cut sharply to Clarke. “Ai din chic op emo splitas.”

Clarke found herself surprisingly shocked. Octavia had to talk to them, had to help her in making them understand how critical it was going to be that everything went right.

“Beja.” Running through her small vocabulary to find a word that would get her to listen.  “M-mejia.”

“ _No! Taim yu wan po, disha wan po kom yu_.” Pushing herself away from the bars Octavia turned her back on the group and stormed to the end of her cell, sitting down pointedly ignoring the people at her back.

After several beats, it was Murphy who broke the charged silence. “I take it she doesn’t like us.”

* * *

 

Translations:

"Geda" (The People)

“ _Ai din chic op emo splitas_.” (I will not talk to them)

“ _Beja_.” (Please.)

“ _Mejia_.” (Important)

 _“No! Taim yu wan po, disha wan po kom yu.”_ (No. When you die, this dies with you.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chants* "Feed back! Feed back! Feed back!"
> 
> I love comments, please and thank you :)


	15. DeLiys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Wright, suku, AutumnGotEm for your comments. And welcome Teespazzr and OverlyInvestedFangirl to the commenting party. Thank you one and all for your kind words. Happy reading.

“Okay, I’m off to do rounds.” Clarke informed Palomina and Glass the next day mid morning as she shoved another roll of bandages in her already bulging backpack forcing the zipper most of the way closed. “If you need me I’ll have a tech pad on me.”

Glass straightened up from over the vat they were boiling bandages to smile in acknowledgment at her, brown hair sweatily sticking to her forehead.

“We’ll be fine.” Palomina assured, typing away on her own tech pad. “I’ll save you a portion of whatever the cooks are mixing up today.”

It had been ordered that fresh food was to take precedence in the food lines. The ruling was a sound one as the gathered items spoiled much faster than what they had brought down with them. However, not everyone was happy with it. True, the Nut-i bars were hard, bland, dry cubes that had almost no taste to begin with, but they were consistently hard, bland, dry cubes with almost no taste to begin with.

The cook’s creation could range from surprisingly edible, to burnt, to under cooked, to something that should only be used as building material, back to being raw all in the span of a meal cycle. When it came to they ate, people tended to like a bit more consistency, especially when food sometimes met their plates still moving.

“Thanks. I should be back by two. Are the patient lists up to date?” Clarke asked slinging the bulky weight on her back. Palomina snorted not even bothering to look up. “I know, I know. You’re very good at your job and I thank you.”

“Lists are technically your job.” Palomina pointed out.

“That's why I asked if they were done. I knew I hadn’t done anything on them since yesterday morning.”

“What would you do without me?” There was affection in her voice  as she said it.  

“Bandage the left foot of a patient who has a cough and try to give lozenges to someone who needs stitches.” Clarke smirked over her shoulder as she left.

That wasn’t far off from the truth. Those first few weeks had been walking nightmares. Death was everywhere. Corpses at such an astonishing rate, in such an astonishing array that it made her sick just thinking about it. People who had been crushed by impact or falling debris. Some whose bodies betrayed them, drowning them as their lungs filled with blood. The scent of burning flesh hanging heavy over the crash site as people worked desperately to put out fires or drag people from the wreckage.

She clearly remembered in the frantic running around seeing one of her elementary teachers, Mr. Gratters, still strapped in his seat. It wasn’t that he was dead that make Clarke stop. It was that his threadbare, habitual worn, tie was askew. Frowning she had gone up to him and straightened the tie against his chest like she always remembered him doing during class. She didn’t know why she could deal with the blood and dying of those all around her but she couldn’t handle a man she hadn’t though about in years’s tie being crooked. It was supposed to be straight so she had straightened it before moving on the the next patient crying out.

So much death that for the first week she would have wondered if coming to earth was really all that preferable if she had capacity to wonder in her exhausted state. The med techs slept where they collapsed, a few hours of unconsciousness before having to get up to change bandages of a child or re-drug a amputee woman, or simple hold the hand of a man as he died.

“Hey, Clarke!” She turned at her name being called, pulling her out of her melancholy thoughts, to see a guard running towards her. It was one of the guys that had been part of Monty's guards from the other day. Mica, Michael, Morren? The one that had freaked out when he had walked into a spider’s web.

Unsure of what he could want she put her doctor smile of, half concerned, half inquisitive. “Do you need something?”

“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to give you this.” He dug into one of his pant pockets and pulled out a large, white flower. A _de-liys_. Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest before kicking into high gear. “I saw you carrying some yesterday and found this one by the gate this morning. There's seems to be a note with it.”

She snapped out of her shock to accept the flower and see that there was indeed a piece of paper rolled around the stem tied with a bit of ruff string. Swallowing thickly she unrolled it as the younger man leaned over her in a interested manner. Not wanting to seem suspicious she let him see, hoping her shaking hands wouldn’t give her away.  

“Looks like someone’s got a hot date planned.” The guard ribbed with a smile.

“Yeah,” pasting on an ecstatic smile she hoped was believable she let the the paper fold in on itself. “Something like that. I have other patients I need to see before-” She cut herself off before she blathered further. “Thanks for this.” She held up the flower. “I would have hated being late.”

“No problem. Glad I could help.” With a smile and a wave he jogged back to his post.

She felt the smile die as her mind raced. They were nowhere near having everything in order. With Octavia being uncooperative it was up to her to pass on what she remembered  to the guys. They had no idea how to actually get her mother out in the open without having a bazillion guards with her or creating mass panic.

She felt instantly nauseous. Was she hyperventilating? That wasn’t going to help anything. She forced herself to calm down, to take deep even breaths. First things first, she needed to finish rounds. As much as she wanted to rush and gather the guys right that second she had other priorities to finish, people who knew that were counting on her instead of the whole camp that didn’t know she was plotting treason to save them.

* * *

 

After she’d seen to her last patient she should have sent a message and gone straight to Wells room, the central HQ for the plans. But instead she found herself scurrying down to Lock-up. She glared the guard into silence when he went to protest her entrance, slamming the the main door behind her so he didn’t have the chance of eavesdropping.

Then Octavia’s door. This one time she didn’t bother knocking simply threw it open and stormed in, fear and worry having turned into anger.

“What the hell is this.” She showed the flower to Octavia. She didn’t know why she withheld the note, but she did. The message was clear enough that it didn’t need deciphering. “This is dangerous. Not just for me but for you, all the other prisoners, and your little friend if he gets caught.”

“He won't get caught.” She murmured eyes locked on the plant.

“I’m sure he would have said the same thing about you.” Growled, beginning to pace. “Tensions are high and your people have our guards shooting at shadows. This was found at the gate by one of our guards. That he wasn’t killed was a miracle. That he got so close has me concerned.”

“At the gate? _Daun branwoda hef_ .” The trigedasleng she whispered to herself as she pressed her face into the bars. She turned sharp eyes to Clarke. “If this is some kind of trick to get me to talk to those _skats_ , I’m not falling for it.”

It was Clarke’s turn for her jaw to drop. “Are you serious? I tell you I find your boyfriends flower at the gates and you think I’m lying? Do you really think I have time for that petty shit? Hawkings, I barely have time to sleep let alone go traipsing through the forest to create an elaborate ruse to get you to talk to me!” She physically calmed herself. “You know what, I don’t have time for this.”

She turned on her heels and left. Back in the hall, and out of sight of the guard, she let her bag fall to the ground covered her face with her hands and screamed into them. She stomped her feet several times to try and burn through her anger before getting herself back together so she could think.

Slightly more centered she dug out her table and sent out a message to the Monty to gather Wells and Murphy and meet her. Time was of the essence and she had very little of it.

* * *

 

Clarke sat at the table in the center of the secondary medward, a bowl of barely touched food before. True to her word, Palomina had gotten her a portion of the day's fare. And hadn’t asked any questions when Clarke said she was tired and was going to take a nap in the quiet, infrequently used room. It had started out as a lie but in the fifteen minutes she had been waiting she realized she was tired down to her bones.

She heard the tell-tale sound of stepped outside the in the hall just before Wells entered the room.

She didn’t bother looking up. “We have a problem.”

“What-” He began but was cut off as by the door opening again.

Murphy shuffled in looking more disheveled than usual, Monty on his heels. “I know you guys think it’s cute to wake me up in the middle of the day for these little pow-wow sessions, but some of us have to actually work for our rations.”

“We’ve been summoned.” She ignored his rant and pushed the flower across the table for all to see. Still was still hoping that the bloom was just a figment of her imagination. That the stress of everything had finally gotten to her and was making hallucinate. The look on their faces killed that idea.

“Where did you find that.” Monty breathed, wide eyed.

“One of the guards gave it to me when I was doing rounds in camp. It came with a note attached.” She pushed the note she had straightened out alongside the flower. _Tonight_ was written in bold, dark letters.

The room was dead silent as they each absorbed the meaning.

Murphy was the first to become vocal. “Shit.”

* * *

 

Translations:

_de-liys (lily)_

_Daun branwoda hef_ (That stupid man)

 _skats_ (boys)


	16. Final Run Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter's comments were awesome. Thank you ekayla and OverlyInvestedFangirl for your comments. Warm welcomes to TheBashfulPoet, Bellarke, and kradlethief. And welcome back Makdawg.
> 
> Edit:~*~*~ Huge thanks to kradlethief for her grammatical help. At this point I will not be editing past chapters but moving forward I hope to keep implementing her tips and tricks. Anyone one else who wants to add imput on my writing please reply to her comment down below. Thank you!!!

“So what do we do now?” Trust Monty to be the one to redirect them on what really mattered instead of buying into the collective heart attack. All eyes turned to Clarke.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath ordering her mind to problem solving instead of panic. “So we know where we’re going. We know who’s doing what and now,” she gestured to the flower with its note, “we have a time frame. The biggest thing now is a working plan of getting the chancellor to go along with it.” She was debating if it was stress causing the turning in her stomach or if it was the few bites she was able to get down. “Ideas?”

“We can always kidnap her. Or drug her like we are doing with the other one.”

“We are not drugging the Chancellor,” Wells nearly shouted.

“Wells is right.” She ignored his sarcastically-muttered ‘thank you’ and continued with, “Drugging the Chancellor would cause more of a backlash when this all comes to a close. And I don’t think the guards are going to go along if we can’t get her to agree to follow us out. Besides we need her coherent and awake to talk with the _geda_.”

“Speaking of awake, this meeting is taking place at, what? Twelve o'clock? Are we sure she’s not going to be asleep?” Murphy asked arms crossed, leaning a hip on the table, looking half asleep himself.

“More like ten thirty, eleven. But yeah, I can almost guarantee she’s going to be awake. She’s always lived with little sleep. As the Chancellor and only doctor she’s running on even less. Nights are the times she no doubt finishes reports and looks over briefings without being interrupted half a million times.”

“We could tell her we have a meeting with the geeda so we can cut out all this lying,” Monty offered.

“That would be a very bad idea,” Clarke said, sharing a look with Wells. They weren’t in agreement with everything that was going on but on this they were. Clarke continued, “She’d start getting into questioning how the meeting got made, who we met with, what led up to it all. A lot of questions that would get me into a lot of hot water and us not getting to the meeting on time, or ever. And we’re not lying technically, she’d sense that right off. We’re just… trying to make her think things are her idea without filling in her misconceptions.”

“We could tell her there’s something outside the gate she needs to see,” Murphy said with a small snicker to himself at how that would play out.

“That's it!” Clarke exclaimed. “We appeal to her scientific curiosity to get her outside.”

“And what about her escort of guards?” Wells quipped.

“That's up to you two,” she pointed a finger at both Monty and Wells. “Now you have a concept to work towards.”

“I was just thinking,” Monty put in, “If it’s going to be this hard just to get your mother outside the gate, how much more difficult is it going to be to get strangers to go along with your plan? I mean, I know you’re using Octavia as kind of a buffer but what if they don’t want to listen to you?”

“Then she gets the Hawkings out of there.” Wells answered.

Clarke ignored him, “What were your ideas to counter that, Monty?”

Monty held up his hands, “I don’t know, it was just a thought.”

“Threaten them.” All eyes turned to Murphy who now had his eyes closed and his chin tucked up against his chest.

“The _geda_ don’t deal well with threats,” Clarke informed him.

He shrugged eyes still closed. “They seem to be dealing remarkably well to your threats already, princess. But Squeeks is right, dealing with a group of them is going to be much more difficult than the one-on-ones you’ve been messing with thus far. You need more of a heavy hitter.”

“And you are suggesting…?”

He peeked one eye open to examine her before closing it again. “I’m sure all the medicine in the cookie jar isn’t wholly curative. Why not injecting one of them with something only we have an antidote for.”

“That way they would be forced to meet with us to save one of their own,” Monty burst in, excited over them reasoning out a plan. Then he frowned. “Wouldn’t the direct antagonization be met with swift retaliation?”

“Not necessary,” Clarke murmured running through her own scenario. “Not if the antagonizer also injected herself, therefore offering them a handy bargaining chip in the dealings with her people.”

“NO!” Wells shouted.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Monty protested.

Even Murphy came to attention.

“Hear me out. It will get them to the meeting place while forcing everyone, our people included, to deal fairly with one another.”

“We’ve just stepped over into the realm of insanity,” Wells said, “and I think I’d like to get off the train.”

“It’s just an emergency measure if they balk on moving the meeting place. I’m going to use the antidote as the motivation and my safe transfer as the price. I’m sure I will be able to talk them around so how bad can things get?”

“That you’re even asking that question-”

“I like the princess’s plan.” Murphy commented.

Wells turned on him, “you shut up.”

“Like she said it’s only the backup to my backup,” Murphy shrugged, straightening from his relaxed position against the table. “If we’re going to go through all this trouble then it’s smart to plan so that if things do fall apart we can still salvage the mission. I would much rather get punished as a hero then as a failure and a traitor.” He yawned, “Now that that’s all squared away, I’m going to go get two and a half more hours of sleep so I don’t crash while the princess is talking with the grounder princess.”

“ _Heda,_ ” Clarke corrected.

“Whatever.” He turned said over his shoulder, “don’t bother me in the meantime and I’ll be ready to play my part when I’m cued.” The door shut behind him.

“If we’re doing this tonight, I need to leave as well to finish some harvester reports for my mom,” Monty said tentatively. He turned to Wells, “Meet me in my room in an hour? We’ll go over what your are going to tell the Chancellor.”

Clarke frowned. “Is that the best place to discuss something like that?”

Wells glanced around the empty secondary med room. “We’re discussing it here, aren’t we.”

“But Jasper...” She trailed off not wanting to offend Monty by not trusting their friend but when inebriated, which tended to be more often than not, he liked to talk and right now keeping things under wraps was the only way the plan would work.

“It’s okay, Clarke,” he gave a sad smile, “he has a back to back shift at sanitation for missing yesterday. He won't be there.”

“Yeah,” Wells said quietly, “I’ll meet you there.”

Monty nodded and left.

The two stood in silence for a long drawn out moment. Then Wells took a deep breath in, preparing to talk.

“I already know what your going to say.” Clarke interrupted.

“Clarke, this is a stupid plan.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m all ears if you have a better one. Hawkings, it doesn’t even have to be a better one, any other plan will work at this point as long as it doesn’t start a war.” She waited but he simply stared back at her at a loss for words. “No? Nothing? Then we are going with my plan.”

“If we had more time-”

“We don’t have anymore time, Wells,” Clarke stressed, “that’s the whole issue. We have to pull a week's worth of planning in ten hours.”

“If you do this, I won't help you.”

She froze. “What?”

“If you leave this room planning on poisoning yourself, I will not help you. I will get a guard to contain you then I will go straight to your mother and warn her.”

She slammed away from the table, over turning her stool so it crashed to the ground, “For Hubble's sake, Wells, this is important!”

“Nothing is as important as your life!” He spat back.

She stormed away from him, kicking a medical cart from her path, uncaring that it toppled and spilled the equipment. “What about the other eighteen hundred lives that are counting on this working. Are they less important than me?”

He didn’t rise to her bait. “I’m serious, Clarke. Find another way, or I won't go along with this any longer.”

 Coming back to the table, she slammed her hands down on its surface making her food bowl to jump. The spoon in the mash teetered on the rim before falling, splattering a glob of its contents.   

“Stars take you, Wells,” she huffed softly, hands brace and head bowed so that her hair curtained her face. Her shoulders fell in a sigh before she tossed her head back to stare sightlessly ahead, “Fine. What do you suggest.”

“Keep things how they are now. Your right, we don’t have time for big changes. Monty and I will get your mother. Leaving Murphy as your backup so you can take Octavia.”

“And if they don’t listen?” she questioned through numb lips.

“Murphy will provide cover while you drop back. If we hear shooting, I’ll get your mother back safe.” Her brow pinched and he elaborated, “I’ve never known you not to get what you’ve wanted just with your words.”

“I think this might be a tad bit different then presenting the benefits of staying out past curfew to your parents.”

“It was teachers with school assignments, too,” he teased lightly. She pushed the image of Mr. Grattes’s rumpled tie out of her head. “This is for the best, Clarke. Throwing poison into the mix would prove more harmful than good.”

“Right,” she rubbed at her face. “I have a few things to finish in medical. Then I have to get my hands on those pills.” She looked around at the destruction she just created, “First I need to clean up this mess. We all clear on the time table?”

“Get the chancellor just out of range of the gates by ten-forty-five. We got it.”

Clarke nodded righting the cart and starting to pick up the scattered scalpels and forceps. They would all need to be deep cleaned again before anyone used them. “I’ll head over to Octavia by eight. An hour to convince her to follow along with the plan then moving her to the meet up spot with the _geda_ by nine thirty. Some posturing and discussion before convincing them to move to the second location should put us there just after you.”

“This is going to work, Clarke.”

“I know,” she gave a grim semblance of a smile. “I won’t let anything keep it from not.”

* * *

At 7:15 Clarke and Palomina said goodnight to Tracer and Wesley, the evening medtech team. Glass had already left by the time Clarke returned earlier in the afternoon. At 7:18 the girls parted ways at Clarke’s room. At 7:20 Clarke laid the stolen drugs out on her comforter.

For a long minute she stared at them. Then, pushing aside her trepidation, she picked up one of the glass bottles and filled a needle with its clear contents.

* * *

Translations:

 _Geda_ (the People)

 _Heda (_ Commander)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all comments appreciated. Somethings as little as a "Hi" or as thought out as a multi-sentence gushing review. Though, to temper my big head, constructive criticism is also welcome.  
> Also, is there anything you guys would like so see? (besides Bellamy of course. I promise you he's very close). I do very much want to hear from you.


	17. And the Curtain Rises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter was insane with all your guys's comments and feed back. I AM SO TOUCHED!!!!
> 
> Huge shout out to kradlethief who took the time to give me writing tips. You're a peach!
> 
> Thank you suku, OverlyInvestedFangirl, TheBashfulPoet for your guys continued support. 
> 
> A big 'hay-oh!' to the newbies tlw13, Olivia, olioliwoo, emmarick, more1weasley, ciprianoivashkov, Lemi, jadedmidnight. 
> 
> And Fianna_Hira, also a newbie, who answered one of me previous questions on botany.

At a quarter til eight Clarke strolled into the Lock Up hall, Murphy at his customary post by the door.

“Ready to party, princess?” he smirked. She rolled her eyes and walked pass him. 

Outside Octavia’s door she centered herself before knocking. The other girl was already standing when Clarke walked in, her eyes warry. “I was not expecting you back so soon.”

“I’m short on time,” Clarke explained grimly, taking a deep breath. The whole of the plan rested on her getting the other girl to agree to what came next. Reaching in her jacket pocket she pulled out the Luminal pill she had stashed there. “If I told you you could see Lincoln tonight by taking this, what would you do?”

Octavia reached through the bars, grabbed the pill from Clarke’s hand, popped it in her mouth and swallowed. She met the other girl’s eyes squarely, “when do we leave?”

Clarke just stood there with her mouth agape, “wha- I- Shit! You just took it? Why would you just take it? Shit!”

“Is that bad?” Octavia questioned, a slightly worried note in her tone. 

“No, no, you’re going to be fine,” Clarke soothed. Cupping her hands around her face, hoping the pseudo-darkness and pressure would forced her mind to focus and recalculate the entirety of the night's events. “You’ve just, uh, significantly jumped up my time scheme. Okay,” she clapped and pointed her clasped hands at Octavia, “you need to sit down and stay as calm as possible. Do you have any Nut-i bars left? No? Okay. Murphy!”

The teen poked his head in with a dry look. “You called?”

“She just popped the pill. You need to run and tell the others things have sped up about two hours. Do you have any food packs on you?” He shook his head, a bewildered look in his eyes. “Then never mind,” she turned and dug in her pack pulling out three small amber colored vials. Keeping hold of one and shoved the other two at Murphy, “make sure Monty gets these then get to your post on the ridge.”

“I was supposed to head out with you.” He fumbled the vials she all but threw at him. 

“We don’t have time for that now! I have to get her out of her before she loses too much cognitive ability.” Still he hesitated. “Go!”

With a grunt he was off.

She turned back to the girl, “Octavia, what you just took was a medicine called Luminal. It is going to make you feel a bit fuzzy but after it wears off there will be no further effects. What I’m going to need you to do is listen closely to what I’m going to say, okay?”

Octavia nodded, feeling a vague slowness in her eye tracking. 

“You know that I’ve set up a meeting with your people. Lincoln and your  _ heda _ will be there, along with some of her men. If things get bad or if talks fall through, my plan is to give us something to force a meeting between our people. 

“It will be very painful and very dangerous, possibly even deadly. I need to know now it you are willing to follow my lead because you will be in no state to give me an honest answer when the pill fully kicks in. Do you agree?”

“I will get to see, Lincoln?” she asked and Clarke nodded. “Then yes.”

“Okay,” Clarke let out the breath she had been holding and held up the amber vial she kept. “This is the antidote to what I’m going to be injecting us with. If my people refused to give it to you,” she continued, slipping  the tiny bottle into a thumb sized cloth bag, “there will be a brief time when the numbing agents wears off that you will need to take this in before permanent damage occurs.” She held the bag up to the bars, eyes serious, “this is very important, you cannot take two dose.”

“Only one,” Octavia repeated dutifully accepting the bag. Looping the attached cord over head and tucking it under her breast band beneath her shirt. She then studied her hands, opening and closing them several times.

Clarke saw the motion, “what’s wrong?”

“I think I’m starting to understand that ‘fuzzy’ feeling you were talking about. My hands aren't closing right.”

Clarke shot to her feet, “that’s our cue to leave.” 

* * *

Getting through the fence proved to be an even bigger problem than Clarke had anticipated. Originally she was going to do this much later in the evening with a much less out of it  _ geda _ girl, and another pair of competent hands. Now she had to contend with people possibly milling about and a only semi-responsive accomplice.

Was accomplice even the right word? Accomplice kinda signified a willingness to go along with something. Did she even have accomplices in this endeavor? What did you call someone who was coerced into being an accomplice?  A Coer-complice? Clarke stifled the hysteric laughter that wanted to bubble out and finished disengaging the section of fence to allow them to slip through.

Dragging a drugged Octavia through the woods Clarke thought not for the first time that evening, if only the girl had waited for her to explain the plan. But no, she had to hear her boyfriend’s name and loose all sense of self preservation. Who takes something from an enemy's hand without thinking things through? Hubble forbid Clarke ever lose her mind like that over a lover. 

Stabilizing the awkward stumblings of the girl beside her Clarke tried to reason through whom the  _ heda _ woman would bring with her. She was certain she would bring more than ten people, it would be stupid not to, but there probably wouldn’t be more than fifteen. So who would it be?

She knew Gustus, the right hand man, would be her biggest work around. Octavia had given the description of a giant bear of a man, quiet and slow to anger but deadly at even the whiff of danger to his leader. And this was way more than a whiff. 

She went through the names she remembered and finally came to the decision that it would be one or two higher retainers along with Gustus; the rest would be fighting guards. Clarks reasoning being that this Lexa would want to get a good look on the sky people without having to deal with the internal political jockeying of her own Chiefs.

Clarke hoped this would make the warrior woman more open to reasoning and compromise when she didn’t have to worry to with seeming weak in the eyes of her people.

She entered the clearing she had two days ago with a bit of trepidation. They were hours early. Would the  _ geda _ already be there getting their men into cover? Or would they show their might by arriving after the already far-off designated time like the kings of old, controlling the meeting by forcing the petitioners to wait for an audience?

She hoped Murphy was on his way to the ridge already. She kept the breach in the same location hoping he’d look there first and be able to slip through. She should have told him, had planned to tell him, then everything got messed up. 

Was he able to get the message to the boys? Had  Wells and Monty even come up with a plan in the even more rigid time frame? Was it convincing enough to get the Chancellor to agree to follow them? And if the  _ heda  _ and her people were still hours off, how long would the boys be able to keep her mother occupied before she demanded why they were walking in circles?

 Clarke gnawed on her lower lip. She was a barely-over-eighteen-years-old convict, why did she ever think she could do this? Was she going to die tonight? Was she going to start the war she had been so keen on stopping?

“Clarke.” 

She jumped. Very much like the last time, Lincoln stepped out of the darkness, startling her even though she was had been half expecting him. Or hoping she was expecting him. She pushed her anxiety aside to focus on the real threat before her. 

“Lincoln,” she greeted on a sigh.

He made a step towards her as his furious eyes cut over Octavia, “what did you do to her?”

“She’s fine. I gave her something so I could come alone.”

“Lincoln?” Hearing his voice Octavia, even in her drugged state, made to move towards him, her motions sluggish and off balance. Gently, Clarke tugged her back to her side.

The man made the beginning step of what looked like a menacing charge.

“Stay where you are,” she ordered, keeping one hand on Octavia’s arm as the other slipped into her jacket pocket. 

Lincoln froze noticing the movement and remembering the knife she had kept in her boot. He didn’t think she would use it on Octavia, she was the only thing keeping Lincon from ripping the blond apart, but the bruise still on his hip told him to be wary of cornering the sky girl. 

“You said you were alone?” containing himself, he took a step back, keying in on the one other thing of importance besides Octavia. “Where are your people?”

“Getting ready. You’re time frame left us a little underprepared.” She tightened her hold on Octavia, eyes scanning the trees around her, “and where are your people?”

“They are-”

“Here.”  Both turned at the voice to see a second man march out of the deep forest. A hand on the sword at his hip he came to a stop beside Lincoln, dark eyes glaring beneath a mass of curling hair as he took in the scene before him. Those eyes bore into her. “ _ Fiya ai pas taim _ .”

* * *

Translations:

_ Heda _ (Commander)

_ Geda _ (The People)

Fiya ai pas taim. (Sorry I pass time/Sorry I’m late.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> }:-]


	18. Enter Geda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comment's guys and galls  
> The returning: Fianna_Hira, OverlyInvestedFangirl, Makdawg, olioliwoo, TheBashfulPoet, lettucebfrank, suku, Olivia, Bellarke, ciprianoivashkov.  
> The new: lemonella, Tazo97, b, Cassie
> 
> Now on with the story!!!

The stranger wasn’t as tall as Lincoln, nor as bulky, and yet Clarke found herself much more scared at the air of menace that was coming from him. 

“Bellamy,” Lincoln greeted with a nod, eyes moving past him to scan the trees. 

She was so focused on him that she nearly missed he wasn’t alone. Several people had faded out with him, centering themselves around one of the women. Clarke took that to mean that she was now entering into the presence of the  _ geda heda,  _ Lexa. 

Octavia had said this woman had been the  _ heda _ for the last seven years, what she neglected to mention was that she was so young, maybe all of a handful of years older than Clarke was. She was also smaller than Clarke had expected, tall but petite in stature, the dark colored armor giving breath to her shoulders in an otherwise birdlike frame. She was instantly more wary of the warrior woman standing yards in front of her. No one held power for that long without the the strength to back it up and with her slight form she must be terrifying in battle. 

In her shadow, head and shoulders above everyone else, stood a man. The sides of his head were shaved with his remaining hair tied back in an intricate looking braid. The beard that came to his chest also had several braids. Gustus. Octavia hadn’t been exaggerating, the man was huge. 

The woman stopped several yards away. Gustus, as if it had been planned, stopped with her. The rest of the group fanned out in a protective barrier around the two. The stranger, Bellamy, broke away from Lincoln’s side to stand just to the right of the most direct path to his leader, blocking the identified threat from having a clear shot at her. Clarke was kinda flattered that they all believed that threat to be her. 

_ “Dison skai gada daun reinseden hit-op kom ai?”  _ Lexa directed the comment to Lincoln as she looked Clarked up and down. _ “Ai fig raun em … moubeda.” _

Clarke bristled at the insult she knew enough trigedasleng to decipher. Deciding it was better that they underestimated her, or at the very least safer, she bit her tongue against a reply. 

“Clarke sky-people, I am Lexa  _ kom Triku, Heda _ of the twelve clans and warrior of  _ Geda. _ You asked for these talks, so let us talk. You have something of mine and also something I want.”

Clarke swallowed her fear and shook her head, “I will only talk when all your people are present. Have everyone step out.”

Lexa fanned her hand out to encompass the men present. “These are them.”

Nothing in the woman’s postor gave herself way. She was perfectly collected as she let the lie roll of her tongue. The others weren’t as opaque. Several of her guard’s eyes swiveled to where some of their hidden comrades waited. 

Clarke rolled her eyes, rapidly finding her courage. “We are wasting time. Have  _ all _ your men step out or these talks are over and you will receive your captured warrior’s bodies in the morning.” 

The woman's face turned into a snarl, “you will be dead before then.”

“Yes,” Clarke answered, letting the truth wash over her, “and a war would have been started. But we can stop all of this now. Have your men step out.”

Gustus’s head tipped towards his leader’s, whispering in her ear. She raised a hand effectively silencing whatever he was saying. Lexa looked the sky girl over. No visible weapons, no allies to call to her aid, and yet all she came with was a hostage and demands. Curious. Ignoring Gustus’s suggestion, Lexa waved out her hidden men, wanting to see what this girl would do.

Several more people stepped out of the shadows on all sides, three slinked down from the tree tops, all took a position of guard around the  _ heda _ . Once the forest was quiet again, Lexa spoke.

“You have brought Octavia, but you also have another that we want. Where is he?”

Clarke nodded, not wasting time on misunderstandings, “Sindri. He is well but I can give up no more of the prisoners without approval of the Chancellor. My leader.”

“Chancellor,” the woman tested the unfamiliar word. “And where is this person? My man tells me you were coming with ten of your people, yet you are here alone.”

“Your notice came a bit earlier then we accounted for and there are a few things she must finish. I was sent to greet you and take you to the meeting site a half mile south, on the road to our camp.”

“Are we not important enough for her to drop these things to come and greet us herself,” Gustas grumbled from behind his mistress, “such disrespect.” 

“And showing up days in advance is the epitome of good manners,” Clarke snapped at the man before continuing more calmly to Lexa, “she will meet us as soon as she is able, to show you the proper respect. But the welfare of her people comes first.”

Gustus scoffed, “Pretty words from a child.”

“You come before the appointed time,” Lexa spoke sensing the unrest in her people, “unprepared, asking us to move to where your people wait, no doubt in ambush. My answer is no. We will take the girl now and depart.” 

“You can’t do that!” Clarke shrieked.

“Oh?” dark anger coated the word. The  _ Heda  _ was not one to take orders lightly. “And why not? Because you say? You hold no power here  _ strik gada _ . We do not blindly follow our enemies. And you have nothing to trade besides empty promises. Take the girl.”

Lincoln stepped forward. 

Clarke drew Octavia behind her. “No!”

“Step aside,” Lexa ordered her, “I have no wish to hurt you when you come under the banner of peace. Go back and tell your people that we will be coming for the rest of our men. Make your arrangements for the after life.”

Thinking quick Clarke tugged one of the needles free from her jacket and inserted it into Octavia’s arm. No time to worry about blood contamination, she carefully dislodged it from its host, slipping it into one of her own veins. The dose was halved but that didn’t mean it was any less deadly, only that it would take longer and be all the more painful for it.

“No!” Lincoln roared rushing them, Bellamy not far behind.

She caught the girl, easing them both to the ground as the numbing agents in the cocktail took effect.

Bellamy grabbed Clarke’s shoulder and ripped her away from Octavia, taking her flat to the ground with his sword at her throat as he roared in her face, “what have you done? What have you given her?”

“Poison,” she gasped, having had the wind knocked out of her.

“Fix it!”

She shook her head, “my people have the antidote. Get us to them and they will help you.”

“Lies! You come in peace then you poison her. _ Natrona sesykof! _ ”

“I have not lied. My people have the antidote and they will help you. You just have to get us to them.”

Seeing he was seconds from driving the blade in the girl’s chest, Lincoln shoved Bellamy aside, “are you sure? If we get her to your people, they will help us?”

She felt sleepy, her eyes hard to keep open. “If they don’t trade me for the cure-” she blinked rapidly trying to stay awake, “Octavia. Three hours. She needs the cure in three hours. Hurry...” She went under.

Bellamy came back at her with a roar,  _ “Ai frag op de eintheing ridiyo peetch _ !”

“No,” Lincoln used his own body as a shield to block the man. “You just heard what she said.”

“ _ Eintheing ridiyos _ ! My sister is as good as dead because of her.” He brought his sword to rest against Lincoln's throat. “Get out of my way!”

“What if it’s not a lie? You would be killing Octavia yourself.” Lincoln spoke softly, locking eyes with the man whose love for Octavia was second only to his own. A man he respected greatly and hoped to one day call a brother in truth. “We must return this girl to her people.”

The were at an impasse. Bellamy wanted to kill the girl, Lincoln would try and stop him from dooming Octavia as well. Neither one flinched from the violence that was just seconds from erupting. 

Slowly, eyes hard, Bellamy removed the blade from his throat. “If she dies, I will be taking my vengeance out on you as well as the girl.”

Lincoln nodded in acceptance, taking the hand offered and allowing Bellamy to help him to his feet. Comfortable enough to know Bellamy would not change his course once he chose a path Lincoln felt it safe to leave the girl as she fell. Instead he knelt by Octavia’s side, checking her over.

She had lost quite a bit of weight and most of the definition in her muscles. A new scar ran just inside her hairline, fully healed now and just a thin white line that blended with the rest. He traced the ink patterns at her left wrist and felt her sighed, going completely limp against his shoulder. She was alive and wonderfully back in his arms. He felt his heart beat within his chest for the first time since she had been taken. 

At the first signs of the struggle, Gustus had pulled Lexa behind him. The guards had followed his lead, closing ranks and drawing their weapons. Now that things had seemed to calm she stepped forward again, “What has happened?”

It was Bellamy who turned and stepped forward to answer their leader. “The  _ ashkova foto _ poisoned Octavia. She claims her people hold the antidote.” He went to one knee, fist over heart and head bent, “I beg leave to travel to this second meeting site and barter with the girl's life to save my sister’s.”

She looked over the scene. Lincoln, a strong and well respected warrior, cradling his lover. Octavia thought dead but now brought back to them. The sky girl tossed where she lay, alone. Bellamy on his knees before her. 

He held himself stiff, guarded. His sister had been his whole world until he came to Lexa to train as her third a year ago. She trusted his loyalty to her completely, but old loyalties were still binding. If she denied this request, she would not loose him, but she might destroy him. 

“Go with my blessing. Take half the guard with you.”

He made to refuse, but the look in her eye stopped him. So instead he bowed again, deeper, “thank you, my  _ Heda _ .”

He stood and went back to Lincoln who still held his sister, “we can go.”

Lincoln nodded to the blond, “she must be carried.”

Bellamy sneeared.

“You are not the only one seeking vengeance for the wrongs of the sky people,” Lincoln said lifting Octavia into his arms and standing. “Any other of these people will kill her then we will be truly lost.”

Begrudgingly, Bellamy picked the girl. So slight. It seemed like she should be heavier, this girl from the stars that had brought them to their knees. He hated her.

* * *

 

At a hand sign from Bellamy the two with their burdens set off, half the guard fading out in the forest behind them. The rest stood at the ready around their Commander.

Seeing something shine in the moonlight, Lexa walked over to it, kicking the leaves away with her boot. A needle layed there in the dirt. 

“She poisoned herself as well,” she said almost to herself

Gustus, a constant presence at her back, spoke, “it would appear so.”

“She poisoned herself to force our people to meet,” she tried to reason it out for herself but came against several mental blocks. 

“Yes.”

Lexa stared out in the darkened forest, eyes following the path the others had taken. “What a strange child.”

“My  _ Heda _ ,” he warned, knowing her intrigue with oddities. 

She flickered an amused to Gustus, “I can not loose my Left Hand’s sister nor can I condemn Indra’s second if there is chance of redemption.” She spoke up, louder, to her remaining men, “we follow to meet the sky people.”

* * *

 

Translations: (direct translation / what I want it to say)

_Geda_ (The People)  


_Heda_ (Commander)  


_ Dison skai gada daun rinseden hit-op kom ai. Ai fig raun em … moubeda ( _ So this is the sky girl that demands an audience with me. I though she’d be … more.)

_ kom Triku ( _ Of the Tree People)

_ strik gada _ (little girl)

_ Natrona ses-kof!  _ (Traitor sex-pay / Backstabbing whore!)”

_ Ai frag op de eintheing ridiyo peetch _ (I kill the not truth bitch / I will kill the lying bitch)

_ Eintheing ridiyos ( _ not truths / lies)

_ ashkova foto _ (ash-cover evil / blond witch)


	19. Moving the Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who left a comment: olioliwoo, OverlyInvestedFangirl, TheBashfulPoet, Makdawg, lettucebfrank, Olivia, and ELSchaaf.

“We are here to see Abby,” Wells demanded in a growl marching up to the front doors of the Chancellor's office. 

Murphy had charged in not twenty minutes ago. A devil-may-care grin stretching his face as he told them, “Princess is on the move. We are upping the anti two hours.” He tosses something at Monty, who catches it with surprising dexterity, and quite literally runs back out, leaving both Monty and Wells shell shocked with no more information. Damn the ill mannered bastard to pluto and back.

The guard stepped in front of them, blocking their path, “I’m sorry, sir, but the Chancellor has left orders that she not be disturbed.”

“She will see me.” Latching on to Monty’s arm he marched past the guard.

“Sir, you can’t go in there,” the guard protested. He couldn’t move from his post without leave so he frantically looked for a superior in the empty hall. This was the last chancellor's son, not a comment threat that he could neutralize with impunity. 

He saw no one and watched helplessly as the two boys strided through the security doors. He was so going to be demoted. 

Marcus Kane, Commander of the Guard and Right hand to the Chancellor, and Abigail Griffin, 27th Chancellor of the Ark and head doctor, stood around the desk at the front of the room frowning at the door. Until they saw who it was. 

“Wells,” Abby said, surprised, but not without warmth as the two came farther into the room. “Hello, sweetheart. I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you holding up?”

“As well as can be expected,” he swallowed thickly to clear his throat, “it’s been hard.”

“Yes, Thelonious left very big shoes to fill. He will be missed.”

“May we meet again,” Marcus murmured.

“May we meet again,” they all repeated the chant.

Abby blinked back tears. “Sorry about that, dear, didn’t mean to get emotional. What is it you boys needed?”

Wells had to hold back his own tears. The woman in front of him had been the closest thing to a mother he remembered having. And now he was going to lie to her for Clarke. 

He almost didn’t, almost backed out and told her everything. He probably would have if the gun hadn’t already been jumped. But head strong Clarke Griffin was no doubt already half way into the lion’s den and it was his job that she got the protection she needed. And that meant going through with the plan already laid out.

“This is Monty.” Wells introduced, dragging the youth to the forefront. 

“Yes, Hannah’s son, we’ve met,” Abby nodded, turning a smile on the boy, “hello, dear.”

“Hi,” Monty let out in a strangled squeak.

She turned back to Wells expectantly. 

“He-- we’ve discovered something in the woods that could revolutionize how we live down here. But we can only see it tonight.”

“I brought my findings to Wells and we both agreed this could be life changing.” Monty fidgeted under all the eyes. Wells hoped the boy’s self-consciousness wouldn’t trip them up.

“Why didn’t you bring it to the attention of your mother?” Abby frowned slightly. 

“I…” Monty looked down, “I didn’t think she’d want to hear them.”

Marcus and Abby shared a look. They knew how single minded Hannah had always been, even in school. Since they landed and she had lost her husband, she had become even more one tracked. To the point it seemed now she was even ignoring her own son. 

The boy had had stepped up though. Leading expeditions and gaining valuable regional knowledge on fauna and topography. His group was responsible for several of the plants that now made a large percentage of the Ark’s diet. If he found something that he thought would benefit the Station’s life, she was open to hearing it.

“So what is it that you’ve found?”

“It’s, uh,” he stuttered, turning wide eyes to Wells as he floundered.

Wells took the lead, stepping forward. “It’s hard to explain. You have to see it to understand the benefits. But this could be just the answer we’ve been looking for. I know how busy you are as chancellor but this has got to happen tonight. We’re not sure how long it’ll be there or if we would even be able to find it tomorrow.”

“You know the danger of going outside the gate at night,” Marcus chimed in.

“Yes, sir, but it’s just a little way out from the main gate, along the side of the road before the trees. I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t think it was very important,” he looked Abby straight in the eye, “this is something you need to see.”

Abby looked at Marcus. He met her eyes and after a second of silent communication, nodded. Abby turned back to the boys. “Okay. We’ll send word to Hannah and some of the other--”

“No!” Monty burst in panicked. All three pairs of eyes focused on him. He looked down red cheeked, “I mean, please no, not my mother. Can’t it just be us? I don’t want people to be disappointed in me if things… turn out wrong.”

Wells stepped forward, laying a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Monty, this isn’t going to end bad. This might be what saves us in the end.”

“Please,” he refused to look up.

Wells looked at the adults, trading his focus between them.

They looked on in sympathy. 

“It is late,” Abby put in slowly, looking over the boys, “and it’s been a long day. We could go now and collect several samples of the Agro tech’s to analyze on the morning so that we have them.” 

“Abby,” Marcus let out in a long-suffering sigh.

She met his eyes, “we can take a few of the guards already on shift and be out and back within the hour, our own people not even the wiser.”

“It might not even take that long,” Wells offered, sensing Marcus’s hesitation.

He looked between Abby and Wells, Monty still keeping his head lowered. 

Marcus had been friends with Thelonious since their studies and had known his son since he was born. Wells had a good head on his shoulders and Abby’s trust from keeping Clarke from getting into too many of her more high strung antics. If he said something was important, it was important. That would have to be good enough for him.

“I’ll set up the detail,” he said with a resigned sigh, “We leave in ten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week has been ruff, so this chapter isn't as well put ogeather as I wanted it to be but I wanted to get something up. I also have no idea what Abby and Lexa could talk about and that is a to be a pivotal part of the rest of the story. I have what leads up to it, and what kinda happens after, but absolutely no dialogue for either of them talking to each other as enemies / potential allies. If any of you have an idea, please leave it in a comment. I would greatly appreciate it and hopefully come up with a better chapter next week.  
> Thanks for reading -- Jay


	20. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TheBashfulPoet, Bellarke, OverlyInvestedFangirl, tlw13, olioliwoo, lettucebfrank.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, a million times thank you! Because of all of you I went from absolutely hating this chapter to creating what I think may be my best chapter yet. Your words of support, encouragement, and help were the very best thing.  
> Extra special thanks to TheBashfulPoet for letting me send her the original WIP and giving me indepth analysis to what was good, bad, and what should be tightened up. It was a huge help, thanks for letting me send you it!!! 
> 
> With lots of love, Jay  
> **Also we've hit over 10,000 hits!!!!

“Wells, it you would tell us what you are looking for we could help find it,” Abby called out to the two youths searching through the knee high foliage at the edge of the road. Marcus stood beside her also keeping an eye on the boys while routinely scanning the area around them. The three cadets and corporal officer took points around them, eyes also locked on the trees.

“They’re kinda hard to explain,” Wells said slowly as Monty caught his eye, they both kept running their hands over the tall grasses. “They can group in clusters or sometimes you’ll stumble across just one. I’ve only seen a few but they seem to come in an array of colors.”

Monty quickly turned his back to the group standing on the road so they wouldn’t have the chance to see his wide eyes. How could anyone be joking at a time like this? When they finally did get caught this was going to end devastatingly. And here the boy was, joking about the different skin colors and trying to make is seem he was talking about plants. 

“Abby, we’ve been here for fifteen minutes already,” Marcus said in low tones. “I know you want to see what this thing is and what it can do but we can’t--”

One of the cadets, a young man named Jonatan that Marcus had personally trained back on the Ark, spoke up eye set against the scope on his gun, “Chancellor, I see movement in the trees to our left.”

Instantly the group was on high alert. 

“Monty, Wells, get back with the group,” Marcus demanded stepping around Abby and coming up alongside the young man. “Can you see what it is?”

“No, it’s too far--” he let out a shocked breath, “Grounders! A whole pack of them.”

“Everyone calm down,” Marcus ordered as a start of panic washed through the group. “Tighten formation around the Chancellor and fall back. Have they seen us?”

“I don’t know but they are heading along the tree line in this general direction.”

“If they act hostile,” Abby said as she strained to see the threat even as she was being corralled back towards camp by Corporal Davis, “you all have my permission to shoot -”

“No, don’t shoot!” Monty burst in stumbling up the slight incline to the road. “We’re here to meet with them!” 

Everyone froze, turning wide eyes on the boy. So shocked that they didn’t notice a third young man that had slipped up from the grassland beside the Chancellor's son, joining into the anonymity as just another one of the guards midst the controlled panic of the group. 

Abby was the first to recover, anger and cold dread sinking in her chest as her Chancellor's mask fell back into place. “So this is the ‘interesting thing that’s only visible at night.’” 

“Clarke said-” Monty began.

“Yes, Clarke. I should have know she was behind this. Where is she? I would have thought for sure she’d be here to see this.”

The boys cast concerned glances between each other. 

“She’s coming,” Well’s promised stepping forward to bring the focus on him. 

“Chancellor, two of them appear to be carrying something. Chancellor,” there was shock in the guard's tight voice, “one of them have your daughter.”

“What!” Abby turned and grabbed the gun from the nearest gunner and sighted down the scope, locking eyes on the murder that was holding her daughter’s limp body.

“If anyone gets a clear shot, you are to take it.”

“Chancellor?” Jonatan looked up from his crouched position. 

Marcus stepped in catching her shoulder. “Abby, calm down. Maybe they’ve come in peace like thay’ve said.”

“They have Clarke,” she snarled.

“This is part of the princess’s plan.” Both adults turned to finally see that a third teen had slipped into their group. 

“And you are?” Abby questioned darkly straining to hide her gut wrenching fear from everyone.

“This is Murphy,” Marcus introduce the boy with his own dark look, “he’s the evening guard for the Grounder prisoners. “

“My daughter getting kidnapped by Grounders was all a part of a plan and you went along with it?” She looked about ready to attack the boys. 

Marcus stepped in her way, bring her sole focus on him. “Abby, we need to think this through. If this is Clarke’s plan we should see how it goes. She’s a smart girl, she wouldn’t’ have walked into this half-cocked.”

All three of the boys looked down as they realised just how fucked this whole situation was going to be for them. 

The foreign group came to a stop just under the shadow’s of the trees still a good hundred yards away under the watchful eyes of the Arkers. The two parties squared off.

“They are carrying her, Marcus. Why is she unconscious?” she asked her longtime friend, her heart in her throat.

Monty stepped forward, trying to offer some answers to ease the Chancellor's mind, “she gave herself and the girl the man is holding Cytodiffusmosis to spark this meeting. It’s nothing they did to her.”

“You let her give herself poison!” she turned on the boy and Marcus had to physically restrain her. 

“We have the antidote,” Monty cowed back, digging in his pocket to pull out the two amber vials. “We just need to get close enough to administer it.”

“And how do you think to do that?” Abby raged.

His fretful eyes flickered back to Wells and Murphy as it seemed to hit them all at the same time, they had no idea what Clarke’s plan was for her to get the medicine. Licking suddenly dry lips, Monty squeaked, “we were hoping that’s where you would come in.”

“Abby be smart about this,” Marcus whispered at her. “They have your daughter, yes. But the council has also talked about what an alliance with them could mean. This might be the chance we’ve been looking for.”

“The council has also decided it was too dangerous to go to them,” Abby growled just as quietly.

“Well, they’ve come to us,” Marcus intoned, knowing the majority of the council had followed her lead in their voting. “Let's not waste it.”

She set hard eyes on Marcus, banking her anger into icy rage she could control. “I want my daughter.”

The words were spoken calmly, but the order was clear. The sole outcome of these talks were to be centered around the return of the Chancellor's child. By what ever means necessary and whatever promises had to be broken.

Marcus nodded committing to stand by her in this. Turning to his men he gave quiet orders knowing the outcome of this night would shape the rest of their futures. Settling his gun along his back for easy access but not a direct threat he shadowed Abby as she marched forward.

Fifty yards and she stopped, raising her voice to be heard across the remaining distance, “I am Dr. Abby Griffin, Chancellor of the Ark. I will speak to the leader of your group.”

A young woman, no more than twenty, stepped forward into the roadway, hand at the sword on her hip. Her people following behind in a wide arc, a large burly man with a beard on her heels.  

“I am Lexa of the Tree Clan, Commander of the People.” 

Abby pinched her lips in displeasure. They had tried for weeks to get the Grounders in their care to talk with no luck and a lot of time wasted. And here they were communicating in perfect unaccented english.  

“This girl,” Lexa continued gesturing to Clarke in one of the Grounder male’s arms, “says you want an alliance with my people.”

This is where Abby had to tread carefully. An alliance could prove beneficial but not until they knew more about the people that would be in connection to. And definitely not when they had her daughter in their clutches. “We want to live in peace here on the ground, yes.”

“You ask for peace while holding my warrior’s in your metal star.”

Abby felt her irritation flare. “Warrior’s that have attacked and killed my people. And more die each day from the traps you leave in our woods.”

“To the mountains and beyond is all  _ Trekrew _ . You are the interlopers here.”

“And yet we will not be moved. The Ark landed here. Our dead are buried in it’s earth. This is our home.”

“The dead are buried everywhere,” the Commander said cooly, “find a new home.” 

“If we were to say the same to you, would you leave? If war is what you want, we will fight for our right to be here.”

“We are not the total barbarians you think us.” Lexa looked the older woman over slowly seeing strength and an iron will. And courage as she came forward to greet her with only one guard. “You want an alliance? The other clans offer goods and trade. What do you of the sky have to offer here on the ground?”

Abby shared a look with Marcus. What did they have that these people didn’t? 

The gun strap accost his chest caught Abby’s eye and she followed it to the barrel poking above his shoulder. She cast another look over the Grounders, having already cataloged each threat but now analyzing them. Knives and swords. Several had bows resting at their sides and arrow fletching at their hips. 

She then looked at her daughter and the other girl being held in a similar manner by another man. Unconscious and poisoned, waiting for the antidote that would save their lives.

“Technology,” Abby stated, looking dead in the Commander's eyes.

“Then show us how your ‘technology’ saves this girl,” Lexa waved one of the men forward, the bald one holding the other girl. “That one put something inside her with this,” her large shadow moved forward and held up a syringe. “Can you fix it?”

“Yes. Have your men bring both women to my people while the rest of you move back. We will give them the antidote then you can leave.”

“I do not trust you with more of my people. Give us the antidote and we will give it to them while  _ you _ leave.”

“No!” Abby swallowed to bring her emotions back under control after the outburst. “Your people do not know how to administer the drug, mine do. You need to bring the girls to us or they will die.”

“One life is not worth two of my warriors,” Lexa said. The two men holding the women looked stricken.

“ _ Beja, Heda, ai foshou fon op ain sonraun-” _ the bald one begged only to be interrupted by the leader.

“ _ Hosh _ ,” her cold tone brokered no argument. He subsided, holding his burden closer. She continued to the sky Chancellor in english, “if mine dies, your’s does as well.”

Abby’s eyes flashed. “Have your men bring both this far. We all retreat and I will send a guard with my tech to administer the medicine. We will leave your girl on the ground and you can come back to retrieve her after we have gone.”  

“How do I know you will give her the medicine and not just leave her to die while you take yours back.”

The one carrying Clarke stepped forward. “I will stand guard to make sure the Sky People keep their word.  _ Ai fragon emo taim emo eintheing ridiyo.” _

Lexa though it through before nodding. She then turned back to Abby. “Is that sufficient for you?”

She wanted the man with the dark eyes as far away from her daughter as she could get him, but she would settle for his extended presence if it meant she would get Clarke back sooner. “Yes.” 

Lexa gestured to her men and they began to fall back as the two carrying the girls stepped to the forefront. The bald man looked at the two sky people with burning rage in his eyes as he crouched over the dark haired girl. He seemed seconds away from violence.

The other one, having laid down his baggage, stood. Seeing the hostility in his friend, nudged him with his boot. “ _ Hos of. Ai don disha _ .”

“Lincoln,” Lexa said calmly waiting for him so that they could return to their people. The tall bearded man waited just behind her. 

Lincoln pressed a gentle kiss to the girl's forehead before carefully laying her down and standing. With one more hate filled look at the sky people he turned and marched back, following his Commander.

Abby, turning to go as well, caught Marcus’s arm. “You will be our guard?”

He caught her eye and nodded, before returning his eyes to the lingering threat of the Grounder. He would make sure nothing happened to Clarke while she sent one of their people back with the antidote.

“Monty,” Abby ordered once back in range of their people, “take the antidote over to where Marcus is.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He trotted off.

Abby turned his place next to Wells as they both watched the boy run to meet Marcus. “You and I will have words after this, Wells. I am very disappointed in you.”

He swallowed thickly, blinking away the tears prickling in his eyes.

“Marcus,” Monty said meekly once he reached him, eyes jumping from one man to the other. “Abby said to com-”

“I know Monty,” Marcus said, calmly refusing to look away from the powerplay he was in with the Grounder male. “Please give the girls the antidote you brought.”

Monty nodded, keeping a wary eye on the Grounder as he came to kneel by Clarke’s side. Reaching in his jacket pocket he pulled out the two vials.

The Grounder grabbed his wrist and Monty let out a startled shriek trying to pull away. Marcus had the gun up and trained on the man in a blink. He ignored the threat, locking hard eyes onto the boy, “how do I know you won't give her a false one.”

Pulling away, Monty dumped both vials in the grounder’s hand impatiently, his fear giving him a sharper tongue, “pick which one with be given to who. I don’t care. Just … hurry.”

Bellamy held both vials up to the moon checking to see if there were any markings or differences. They seemed to be identical. 

“We will give both to my sister,” he finally decided.

“You can’t!” Monty burst reaching for the antidotes.

The man held them away from the boy his posture menacing, “and why not?”

Monty swallowed hard at the look but stood his ground. “Giving her too much will kill her faster then not giving her any.” He saw the fearful look that other man cast the small bottles in his hand and quieted his tone, “sometimes the cure is more dangerous than the poison.”

He handed one of the vials back and nodded to Clarke, “that one is to take it first.”

Relieved, Monty braced Clarke’s head up slightly on his knee before tipping the liquid in her mouth. Gently he massaged her throat until he got her to swallow.

Mimicking his actions, the grounder did the same for Octavia. “Now what?”

“We wait. In a few hours the anesthesia will wear off and they will wake up. You will need to keep her calm and quiet for at least a day. She’ll be tired anyway, so don’t be surprised if she sleeps most of the time. She’ll need to drink a lot of water and, if she’s not nauseous, she can try some broth but nothing heavy.”

The grounder nodded, showing that he heard, as he picked Octavia up, cradling her in his arms. He looked at Marcus, who still had his gun in hand but no longer trained on him, then back down to Monty. “If she dies I will be back to raze that metal star to the ground and grind all of your people into dust.”

Monty looked up at him, still kneeling by Clarke’s side, beyond fear at the calmly put threat. “Okay.”

He turned and walked away.

* * *

 

_ Beja, Heda, ai foshou fon op ain sonraun-  _ (Please Heda, I would gladly give up my life-)

_ Hosh _ (silence)

_ Ai fragon emo taim emo eintheing ridiyo.  _ (I kill them if they lie)

“ _ Hos of. Ai don disha _ .” (Go. I got this.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like all forms of critique. You'r comments keep me going :D


	21. Repercussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you OverlyInvestedFangirl, tlw13, Meg, TheBashfulPoet, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, olioliwoo, Bellarke, lettucebfrank, Anongirl for your comments.

Clarke blinked open her eyes, taking a second to catalog her surroundings. Seeing Wells sitting on the edge of the cot, she sat up with a groan, body sore and still groggy, “Well, it looks like I got the antidote.” 

“You shouldn’t be sitting up yet.” Wells protested.

She waved him off, surprised her mind had let her sleep as long as she had, and braced herself against in the corner where the two walls met. 

“Its it the nightmares?” He watched as her shoulders tensed, a pained smile turning his lips. “Yeah, I’ve been having them too. Falling through space. Landing. All those dead bodies. Learning my dad stayed on board.” 

“I’m sorry, Wells.” No one deserved the images that floated around in her own mind. 

“I was angry at him for so long for how he treated you and your father. In the end I didn’t even say a real goodbye.” He looked down at his clasped hands. “He tried too. Without saying it, he tried to tell me how proud he was of me. How things didn’t alway go the right way but how he always tried to do what was best for the Ark. I blew him off. The last thing he said to me was that he loved me and I huffed and told him I’d see him on the ground.” He turned to her, eyes an intense and a blit glassy. “Clarke, you need to talk to Abby.”

“We are way past the point of talking,” she looked away, laying her head against the wall and closing her eyes. “How did the rest of it go?”

“We got the girl the antidote. Your mom and the Grounder woman seemed to come to some sort of agreement.”

“That's good.” She let out a sigh she haddn’t known she had been holding.

“Good? How is any of this good, we’ve committed treason!” He gripped agitated, “I should have gone to your mother that first night. Then none of this would have happened.”

“This isn’t anybody's fault, Wells. This is just the best of a shitty situation. Where are the boys?”

“I’d assume in the cells adjacent to ours. A couple of guards carried you in as we were all marched down. We are in solitary.”

Clarke felt her lips curl, her mother really was predictable. “Home sweet home.”

Wells gave her a dirty look that she ignored. “Clarke this is serious. Your mom is pissed. This isn’t going to end well.”

“I know, Wells. Trust me, I know.”

“Trust you? You lied to me!”

She sighed. She haddn’t lied per say, she had merely let him draw his own conclusions to what she had said. Not that he would see it that way. Better to let him get his venom out now so it didn’t eat at him. “Yes.”

“Did you plan on doing it the whole time, not telling me about the poison?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe you.” He burst from the bed to storm to the door and back, all of three strides.

“You thought you knew better after one meeting with a  _ geda _ that refused to even talk to you,” she spat, surprised to find her own ire bubbling to the surface. “I would not have allowed your principles to destroy our one chance. You’re not my prince, Wells, and I’m sure as Hawkings not your princess.” 

“You’re just the one who gets to decide the fates of those around you.”

“Somebody had to. We are dying, Wells,” she stressed, trying to get him to see. Trying to get him to understand how sick she was of dealing with death when there was something she could do to try and stop it. “Left and right, we are dying. And soon we are going to run out of food and then we are going to starve. And that’s if a war didn’t start from angering the indigenous. We came down here unprepared and woefully inept to survive. So yes, I made decisions that contained everyone. And I didn’t worry about what would happen to one when the whole was at stake. I volunteered my life knowing that things could go wrong. I still had to try.”

“It wasn’t just you out there Clarke. I committed treason because of you!”

“Do not blame me for what you decided to do. Your decisions are not my fault.”

He reverted into angry silence, refusing even to look at her. Clarke didn’t bother trying to talk him out of it. He could be as mad at her as he would like, she was too tired to try and coddle him. 

She must have does for a while because the next thing she knew the door to their cell clanged open and her mother and Marcu stepped in. 

Wells began, going to the bars, “Abby, I-”

She glared him into silence.

“That isn’t my mother, Wells,” Clarke said almost lazily, rolling her head against the wall to get a better look at the group. “Goodmorning, Chancellor. Or is it still evening? It’s so hard to figure out time when in solitary. Not that you would know anything about that.”

Abby did not raise to the bait. “We will be releasing you with the stipulation you tell no one what has occurred this night. If anyone is to ask the reason you were detained, you will say it is because you snuck beyond the gate after hours. The guard that help you has been stripped of his position and will be facing severe penalties. The rest of you are to work your regular schedule with punishment detail to be decided at a later time. When not on shift you are to be confined to your rooms. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” Wells said meekly, head bowed.

Clarke wasn’t going to be that easy. “You just don’t want everyone knowing that we had favorable interactions with the natives as the would completely destroy your narrative that ‘grounders are dangerous.”

“They are dangerous,” Abby snapped. “If you don’t recall, you were in their clutches but hours ago.”

“They came to  _ us _ , if you don’t recall. Thus proving that we pose a bigger danger to them.”

“That doesn’t make them any safer to be around. They’ve killed dozens of us.”

“We’ve killed more of them in direct contact then they have. And we’ve kept a dozen prisoner for over a month.”

“You’re not a child anymore, Clarke. On the Ark you would have been floated for something like this. You will not leave this room until I get your solemn oath that you you’ll not tell a soul about last night's events and that you will cease interfering in Council matters.”

“Looks like I am staying here then.”

“Clarke, don’t be bull headed,” Wells growled at her. “Abby is try to give us an out. What we did was reckless and she’s only trying to do what's best for the Ark.” 

“Funny, I’m doing the same thing. I wonder why we seem to be on opposing sides.”

“Because your plan will bring nothing but casualties,” Wells barked.

“We don’t know that!” Clarke yelled back

“Until we have evidence that proves otherwise,” the Chancellor interrupted, “I will not allow anyone to escalate this any further. We now know that the grounds can speak our language. We will begin more lengthy interrogations with the prisoners we still hold. That will have to be enough for you now, Clarke.”

“I still refuse to keep our people in the dark about these goings on, the deserve to know.”

“They aren’t ready to know. They need only be concerned about building their lives here on the ground and put their trust in the Council that we know what is best for them.”

“Even as you lie to their face.”

“It it is what they need, then yes. We can not afford panic right now. You know that, Clarke.”

“Clearly, I don’t know anything.” She turned away from them, sliding down the cot to lay down. “If all of you would just go away. I’m tired.”

She heard the cell bars open and steps coming towards her. Cold hands touched her face turning it so she was forced to look up at her mother’s concerned face. “You weren’t this recalcitrant when you were a child.”

“A lot of things were different when I was a child,” Clarke accused, pu lling away from her touch and turning her back.

Her mother closed her eyes as if in pain. “I’ll,” she cleared her throat, “I’ll send Jackson to check to make sure the Cytodiffusmosis is being cycled out off your system. I’ll come check on you in a few hours, hopefully you’ll have decided to change your mind.”

“Don’t bother,” she spoke to the metal wall.

“Clarke, I do love you. You know that right?”

“Yes.” She knew that her mother loved her. But she also knew that she had loved her father. Love wouldn’t stop her from doing what needed to be done.

She thought on her young life where the concept of parental love never needed to be questioned, it was a set fact. Where her mother and father were always there for her and she was safe and comfortable in that knowledge. All that changed with her father’s execution and her protected little world imploded in on itself long before it exploded for everyone else.  

She felt a hand card through her hair, then the metal bars close and the door clank shut. The silence grew to near deafening levels. 

That was when Clarke allowed herself to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know leaving a comment can be daunting but if you would be willing just to leave a "HI" with maybe the chapter you guys started reading at (the number of chapters I had posted when you found my story) if you remember. I would really love it. I want to see who is all reading my story.


	22. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW!! The comments for this chapter were off the hook. Welcome and hello to all you new faces and old faces. And a HUGE thank you for all of your continued support.  
> Now on to the names. Thanks to:  
> Ani, Abee, B, OverlyInvestedFangirl, Mrooks, Nanagrb, olioliwoo, rebbar64, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, Wright, FloridaAlicat, ELSchaaf, TL, hookingtheswan, chant_de_lune, suku, Lbow1984, TheBashfulPoet, lettucebfrank, olioliwoo, Makdawg, Moka_Magamo, methusalahoneysuckle, Anongirl, KaeCove3, Meg
> 
> ~~** IMPOTANT**~~  
> Ok, so I don't drive myself insane trying to translate this all in to trigedasleng and then all of you having to decipher it we're just going to have when grounders are alone, talking to each other, they with be speaking in their own language. If a sky person is there, they will be speaking in english unless noted with ~italicized~ words that will have a translation at the end.  
> As Clarke starts learning more trigedasleng this rule will apply for her as well, only to come up when an unfamiliar, important to the story, word is used

The first thing Octavia realized as she slowly came to, was how much her body ached. The second thing was the heated conversation taking place around her in quiet, angry tones.

“She poisoned her!” Bellamy seethed.

“They still have our men.”

She recognised her brother's voice, but wasn’t quite able to place the man he was talking to.

“And Lexa still wants to meet with them. Can she not see this will turn out just like _Sankru_? Their leaders may have joined the Coalition but their people still steal from us.”

“She is young and inexperienced. She still wants to believe good is still in the world. It is our duty to protect and guide her when her judgement fails. Our top priority is her safety. We must keep close watch to make sure she does not injure herself in this mistake.”

The voice finally place itself in her memory, Gustus. Octavia didn’t much care for the Right Hand of the Commander, she found him to arrogant and heavy handed. She had alway thought he overreached himself using the _Heda’_ s name. Now being privy to the private conversation she had proof of how much of a snake he really was.

“Yes.” And her brother was buying right into his. She rolled her eyes and wince when even that small movement hurt.  “When the time comes I will--”

Time to save him from himself again. “Brother?” she made her voice sound weak and tired and frowned when it came out more so naturally.

For all his good traits her brother was loyal and honest to the point of his own detriment. If he committed to something, he would hold himself to it even if confronted with new information. He was unwavering in that regard. A fact that Gustus had no doubt figured out after all this time and was not above using towards his own ends.

“O?” Instantly his face came into view as he leaned over her. Concern and maybe a touch of fear evident in his eyes and the pinch of his brow.

“I will leave you to your sister,” Gustus said from somewhere above her, out of her line of sight. Bellamy nodded to him and she heard the sound of a door closing.

Cleaver. Now he could claim that he was never there because she never saw him. She may be the Second of a respected Chief, but her word against his would come to nothing.  At least she now she felt justified in her resentment of the man and would keep a closer eye on his motives in the future. She would not allow him to lead her brother astray.

Bellamy turned back to her. “How are you feeling? The witch that poisoned you--”

“Was I given the antidote?” she butted in, remembering fuzzily the importance of the question. It it was a ‘no’, she needed to… She patted at her chest weakly, frustrated with how slowly her body listened to her, searching for something she knew should be there.

“Yes. The she-demon did not, at least, lie about that.”

So, Clarke’s plan had worked after all. Octavia had to admit, she was impressed by the girl’s gumption. She stopped fingering the little pouch under her shirt. “Can I get some water?”

He disappeared from view to return with a cup.

“They said you would be thirsty,” he informed as he eased her head up and helped her drink.

She laid back disgusted with how tired she was from the slight effort. She’d definitely be asking more questions the next time the Star Girl came up with an idea. Speaking of questions.

“Where’s Lincoln?”  Her memory, cloudy with the drug she had taken, vaguely remembered seeing him there in the woods. She would have been positive he would be with her there now but the glance she got of the room when Bellamy lifted her showed it was empty.

“He’s getting a dressing down from the Commander and Chief Indra for how the meeting went with the Sky Rats.”

“I got the antidote, so things couldn’t have gone too badly,” Octavia yawned.

“It could have cost your life as well as that of the Commander and a dozen other warriors.” Bellamy snarled.

She half sat up, bracing herself on her elbow to face him. “The Commander knew that when she decided to meet with them. Why would Lincoln get in trouble for that?”

“He made contact with the Sky people when strict orders were given to stay away. He forced the Commander into a trap.”

“My goods are on her willingly walking into the meeting,” she layed back down when her head started pounding, “no one forces Lexa to do anything.”

“He did this time. He says that they have Sindri in there.”

Octavia nodded confused with why her brother would consider that using force. “He was alive and well when I saw him about three weeks ago.”

“Lexa wants to use him to gain cooperation with the Queen Nia. And that means using the Sky people to get our prisoners release, Sindri along with them.

“Conversations have stalled again?” she fowned wondering what other new disasters were going to come to light from her time away.

“She showed up a little over a week ago when she received no word from Sindri. She is not happy that Lexa has lost her ambassador and is threatening to leave the Coalition because of it.”

“She showed up herself?”

Bellamy nodded. “And came with a battalion to Polis. Her men are hunting the forest and taking whatever they want. This soon after winter there's not enough game for indiscriminate hunting and pre-made stores are running low.”

“Lexa left Polis with Queen Nia there? Was that the best idea?”

“Yes,” her brother bristled at the insult to his Commander. “Nia won't do anything right now, she thinks she has the upper hand. Lexa deemed it time to see what these Sky People were like. How many men it would take to destroy them.”

“Back before you learned that they kept prisoners alive and that they wanted an alliance not war.”

“Not from what their leader said.”

“You mean Abby? Clarke didn’t try to do that talking?”

His live curled, “the blond witch was other wise occupied.”

“Otherwise occupied? She’s been working on this almost from the minute I met her. What else would she be doing?”

“Lying unconscious in my arms.”

“What did you do to her?” She snarled, half launching herself from the the bed. Then frowned. Why was she so concerned over the girls well being? Just because she had been nice to Octavia in captivity didn’t make Clarke any less then one of her captures.

Bellamy reared back. “What I did to her? It’s what she did to herself. I don’t know why I’m defending myself when she is in the wrong but we did nothing to dissuade the peace talks. She’s the one that poisoned the both of you.”

“She poisoned herself?”

“Pulled the needle from your arm to do it.”

Octavia blinked. That was incredibly stupid … or really smart. Probably a mix of the two. She must have been really desperate to try and pull that off. She had seemed slightly frantic when they were in the cell.

She eased herself all the way into a sitting position. “What else happened after I fell asleep.”

“You didn’t fall asleep, you were poisoned!”

 “Fine," Octavia rolled her eyes, "what happened after I was poisoned.”

“We went to a second meeting sight where the Sky Rats were waiting. Lexa and their leader talked. Lexa told them to leave and they threatened war.”

“In reaction to our own threats no doubt,” Octavia said reaching for the water. She was thirsty.

Bellamy scowled at her, not willing to see the other side, even as he helped hold the cup to her lips when her hand shook to much. “They then offered technology to Lexa’s proposition of an alliance.”

She drank her fill, nodding to signal Bellamy that she was done. “They have it. Lots of it. Light that turns on by themselves, books about the old world, small 'tablet' things that store reams of information. They have medicine.”

“I know. And poison too."

She shook her head. “More than just that.” She brushed the hair away from her forehead to show off the scar there. “During my raid on one of their parties I was hit over the head. I should have died from it. They took me back and fixed me.”

“And kept you prisoner. They are not the good guys, O.”

“They are not the bad guys either, Bell. They are people trying to live just like us.”

“So you are sympathizing with them now?” he spat, disgusted.

She looked down, hurt by the accusation in his voice. “They save me life when they could have let me die. I thought you would be happy about that.”

He huffed out a breath almost seeming to deflate. “I am, O, I am.” He cupped a hand around her neck and brought her to rest against his shoulder. “Up until a day ago I thought I had lost you. My world started to spin again when Lincoln brought word.”

Her arms came around his ribs as she hugged him. He ignored the dampness he felt seeping through his shirt and the croak in her voice. “I missed you, big brother.”

“I missed you too, little pest.” Her arms tightening around him but she was good enough to ignore the quiver in his.

* * *

 

“How is your sister?” Lexa asked when he entered the central hall of TonDC.

“Sleeping, Commander,” he answered with a bow before he took his place on her left. Octavia had quite nearly fallen asleep on his shoulder, going boneless in his arms. He would have been concerned in the nervous youth hadn’t told him to be expecting it.

“We are happy to have her back. Her loss would have been a blow that the Wood Clan would be slow to get over.”

“We would have gotten our revenge,” Indra put in, eyeing Lexa over her wine. “And we still plan to for the men that they still hold.”

“That will not be necessary at this time.”

Her fist tightened around the goblet. “We have buried six of our men and, if the sky trash’s count is to be believed, we are still missing three more.”

“And I am sorry for your losses, Indra. But we must not jeopardize getting the twelve returned. At this time, the Sky People are to remain untouchable.”

“Yes, Commander.” Indra bowed setting down her cup. “I will go check on my second now.”

“She is aslee--”

Lexa raised a hand to silence Bellamy’s protest. “Yes, Bellamy will lead you to her.”

Indra eyed her, disliking being directed within her own domain. ‘Very well. Follow me, boy,” she turned and marched from the room.

Bellamy bowed and followed her out. This late in the night, even after all the excitement, the hall was empty and quiet.

Stepping around the Chief, Bellamy made the healing room door first and pushed it open quietly.

 “I told you she was asleep,” Bellamy said softly preparing to pull it closed.

Indra stormed past, ignoring him completely. “Sit up, girl. And you stop skulking in the shadows like a wraith, no one needs killing her,” she eyed Bellamy over her shoulder, “yet.”

Lincoln stepped out of where he had hidden himself as Octavia sat herself up.

The two woman just stared at each other for a long time.

“I am getting too old to begin training a new replacement. Do not make me worry over it again,” Indra ordered harshly but her emotion shown through her eyes. She had been devastated with the news of her second’s passing, the girl having become like a daughter to her over the years of training.

Octavia swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes, Chief.”

“Good. I know you have it easy on your little vacation in that metal star but playtime is over. When can I expect you to take up your duties again?”

“The Sky People said she needed to rest for at least a day.” Bellamy put in from the door.

Octavia grin was all teeth. “Then I will be at your side at breakfast.”

Indra grinned back just as feral. “Don’t let me down. We have a lot of work to do.”


	23. Inquiry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Makdawg, Kkckat3, TheBashfulPoet, ELSchaaf, Lithriel23, Bellarke, olioliwoo, OverlyInvestedFangirl, rivers123 (faithcopeland), Ani. 
> 
> This chapter is for Love_Forever_a_Fangirl and more1weasley who left comments about Octavia and Lexa, and I was "oh, this would be the perfect place for this" and completely derailed what I was originally planing to write this week. But I like this much better, it adds more depth, so thank you. 
> 
> Everyone's support was awesome!!!!
> 
> ~~** Edit **~~  
> So I made a bit of an uh-oh last chapter. The scene of Lexa and Gustus talking has now been moved to this chapter. It works much be here. And I added a few words to the last chapter to blend out the issue.

As promised, Octavia was up and in the mess hall by the time breakfast was being served, though all she really wanted to do was sleep another three days there in Lincoln’s arms.

For warriors not on duty and for every trainee in the village cooks took care of the two main meals of the day, breakfast and dinner, in the dining hall. For warriors lucky enough to have their own dwellings, and or families of their own, they typically made due with their own stores.

Lunch was taken in the field. Whatever could be carried on their person all day by the warriors and large lunch baskets doled out to the children cafeteria style during their midday break.

At any given time TonDc housed one to two hundred full warriors, the main bulk of the Wood Clan army. A second cache of warriors, roughly the same size, was a day's hard ride to their south, with another thousand or so warriors spread among the villages throughout the clan’s territory.

As it was the Chief's duty to see to the training of the Clan’s warriors, it meant that TonDc it was also home to thirty to three hundred trainees ranging from the ages of five to sixteen each year. With winter just barely having had ended, the younger recruits that went back to their villages for the season had not yet returned. Octavia counted roughly forty Yearlings, trainees that were about a year off from their warrior status and therefore required to remained at camp.

Octavia stepping into the dinning room did what few other things could, brought complete silence. Refusing to fidget under the shocked stares, she made her way to the head table where the highest ranking personnel sat when they were present.

Able to seat five, there were typically no problems where Octavia was concerned. As Indra’s second, within the Wood Clan’s own territory, she was always guaranteed a seat. With the visiting dignitaries things shifted a bit.

As Lexa was the Commander of the Twelve Army’s, wherever she went she outranked everyone else. The seat right of center was typically reserved for Gustus as his rank was second only to the Commander. However as Chief within her own territory, Indra took the place of honor and Gustus was moved to Lexa’s left, Bellamy to his left.

The fifth space, by Indra, that by rights should have been Octavia's, was also occupied.

Klaiya was sixteen and newly minted as a warrior. Head of her year she had spent the last seven seasons at TonDC instead of returning home during the cold months. Indra was  keeping her close, training the girl to be a Captain’s, even a Lieutenant's, second. Since graduating in the fall, she did normally have a seat at the head table, if no other officials were present. With three such High Office officials present, she knew her place was among the rank and file.

“Klaiya,” Octavia greeted in cool tones stepping up the small platform the raise the table a foot off the ground.

“Octavia,” the girl returned the greeting casually lifting her attention up Octavia to start at her with gloating eyes. “I thought you were dead.”

Indra, eyes closed as she rested her chin on her clasped fists, unabashedly listening in on the conversation, felt a sharp smile curve her lips. As long as no one died and was able to lift a sword in the end, she turned a blind eye to the infighting. She liked the competition between her people, it kept her warriors sharp.

“As you can see, I am still very much alive.”

Indra’s eyes opened as she recognized that tone. Out of the corner of her eye she looked Octavia over. Her hair was wet but braided in its customary style, weapons, not her own but of good quality, were strapped on her back and hip, and despite the chill in the air she wore a top that showed off her unity mark. Indra also noticed the tightness around her eyes and mouth and the tense set of her shoulders. Her second was be in no mood to verbally dance with the puppy.

She sighed, deciding to intervene. It would be a waist to loose the girl’s potential after all this time just because she tried to bark at the big dogs too soon. Straightening, she grabbed a bowl and filled it from the pot of hot cereal that was on the table, “Octavia, please join us.”

Klaiya cast her a hurt look before her eyes quickly hit the ground. She didn’t look up as she stood and left the table without further protest.

“Was I ever that young?” Octavia asked Indra, easing herself in the chair next to her mentor.

“You were much the same way with Konan,” Indra said using her smallest knife to carve an apple into chunks for her porridge. “All of six years old and ready to challenge him for Right of Second.”

“He beat that out of me right quick.” She accepted the half of apple Indra offered her, taking a bite of its tart flesh. She felt her eyes prickle at the taste. It was so good to be home.

“If anything he pushed you right into it, pushed you to be better then him.”

“And I would have to, if the bastard had not died.” There was no heat in the words, just wistful nostalgia.

A father figure to her when she didn’t have one of her own, he had pushed her to be the best she could be, then pushed her further because he knew she could do it. A hard task master, he had been one of three people that had truly believed in and cared for her as a child, her mother and brother being the other two.

He had died in a boar hunt gone wrong during a Yearling training mission. The other warriors had bundled him and the children back to camp but it had been too late. Infection had set in and there was nothing their healers could do to correct it. One of his final acts was to call Octavia to his bedside and name her Second in front of the Chief and four other witnesses in his name.

She had been fifteen at the time but Indra had not questioned her long time friend’s dying wish even with the rests the clan Generals did. She graduated early and was appointed Second of the Wood Clan.

“Octavia,” Lexa leaned around Indra, “I am glad to see you up. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m going to fight the next person to ask me that so that everyone can see for themselves.”

Her brother leaned far back to catch her eye around the others seated at the table and glared.

A small grin turned the Commander's lips. “I’m glad to hear it. We have a few questions for you this morning. Indra, is after breakfast good for you?” It might have come out like a question but it was an order. Indra nodded though her lips pursed.

After the food had been eaten and the tables were empty Lexa stood leading the group from the public room into the war room. On a low rise towards the back of the room five chairs were set in a quarter circle. A lone chair was set up in the middle of the room facing the others. This was where testimonies were held.

“Everyone, please be seated.” Lexa sat on the center most chair gesturing that the others should do the same.

Octavia sat in the lone chair. “Where would you like me to start?”

The Commander looked around the room as if taking stock of the others. “Let us start at the beginning.”

Octavia nodded taking a minute to think back to what the her beginning would be. “A month and a half ago something huge fell from the sky. Several somethings, actually.”

“Yes, we saw some in Polis but deemed them too far to travel to in for the weather.”

“One landed roughly twenty miles west so we sent out scouts to see if it was anything useful could be gathered. The first group of scouts came back with information that a whole metal building had landed just south of where the two rivers merge and that people came out of it.”

“A month and a half?” Lexa shared a look Gustus before turning back to the conversation at hand. “We did not receive word until four weeks ago.”

Indra spoke up. “Spring came early in our valley but closer to the ocean Winter still held sway. My messengers made it to the river before being forced to turn back. Our early spring had flooded your bridge.”

Lexa nodded her understanding. A whole village had been evacuated due to the rise in the river. She turned back to Octavia, “please, continue.”

“It was the second group that four people went missing and the rest brought back two of their fallen brother. I was part of the third group with orders to attack the groups that ventured out and steal one for information.

“We got the drop on a group. Joshua was killed. We killed seven of theirs but their yells brought in reinforcements. I called the retreat but they followed us. I split off from the main group so that they could get Joshuwa home but I miscalculated. One of their weapons hit a tree on my right and I veered left. My food hit  a loose stone and I tumbled down a hill, hitting my head.

“I don’t remember a lot after that until waking up in a cell. I was nauseous and my head hurt, but I was surprised to be alive so I wasn't complaining. Several people came in to see me. One said he was a _‘dock door’_ but the other three were wearing the same clothes as the people we attacked and had their range weapons. They spoke english at me, everything slow and elongated as they pantomimed, like I was stupid. From them thinking I didn’t understand I gleaned that at least a few others were alive and held prisoner but weren’t talking. I thought it best to follow suit.

“After a week I was moved into to a different cell, one in the room of cells with the others. It didn’t last long and I was taken back to my first cell. There were eight warriors at that time, but I learned that a total of twelve had been taken.”

“Why didn’t you stay with the group?” Lexa asked.

Octavia’s eyes wandered to her brother’s before she could stop them. She broke eye contact immediately and dusted imaginary dirt off her pants. “I wasn’t given the choice.”

Lexa nodded again, waiting for her to continue but Bellamy jumped in with a frown reading his sister's body movement. “What aren’t you telling us?”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “I’m trying to tell you everything but you keep interrupting.” She still didn’t meet his eyes. This time Indra saw it to.

“Octavia,” she ordered, “tell us.”

She sat up straighter, gritting her teeth. But pulled by the order from her Chief, she had to answer, “A guard tried to get better acquainted. I tried to break his arm from his shoulder. He hit me upside the head where I was injured and I went down.” She dared anyone to pity her with her hot glare. “Leon reached through his cell to grabbed him before he could come at me again and the whole thing went to hell from there.

“More guards came in and I was escorted back to the first cell. It was after that I met Clarke.”

“Clarke?” Indra asked.

“The blond witch that--” Bellamy began with a snarl only to be cut off by Lexa’s raised hand.

“She is the one that Lincoln found and who met us in the woods last night to return Octavia to us,” she finished. Turning back to Octavia she said, “I am sorry for all the interruptions,” she cast a sharp glare at Bellamy, “they will not happen again. Please tell us more of this Clarke. She and I did not get to speak much, but from our brief association I found her … interesting.”

“Yes. From the first minute of having meet her I thought so as well. She is clever and ruthless without being cruel. She might very well be the reason so many of ours are surviving captivity.” Octavia continued without having to be promoted. “She kept bring down food rations when the rest of her people seemed to lose interest in us. It wasn’t much and it tasted terrible, but it kept me going at least. And she brought word of the others and stories of the outside world. It's difficult to understand what isolation does to ones mind, but without her aid I do not believe I would be sitting before you now.

“She’s gotten it in her head that for her people to live down here they will need our help. She wants peace and trade. I need you to know that I am indebted to her when I tell you I am advocating you accepting her and her people into the Coalition. And trust me when I tell you we have just as much to gain in this alliance. Their technology is beyond description. Their medicine saved me when I should have died from a cracked head.

“Clarke herself is a healer on top of being their leader’s daughter. She-”

“Daughter?” Lexa interrupted sitting forward. She frowned at the others in the room who’s confusion was also visible.

Octavia stopped looking over everyone. “Yes. She is the Chancellor Abby’s only child. How else did you think she got their leader to talk to you?”

“So this Clarke was the one to set things into motion? And it seems with little cooperation from her mother?”

“Yes. Clarke knows that an alliance would only help them. The Chancellor and the Council, their ruling body, believe it is too dangerous to associate with us.”

“So we gave up a diamond to get back a pebble.” Gustas said in disgust.

“Careful, Gustus,” Indra said with a predatory stare, “that is my second you speak of.”

“And my sister,” Bellamy growled.

“He meant no disrespect. It is just unfortunate that we could not have used that knowledge to our gain last night.”

“Maybe not so useless. You now have the sky people's good will for your return of their princess. Perception is all that matters right now. You want Sindri? Name that as your opening trade for us working with them her and Clarke would find a way to pay it.”

“You have given us much to think on, and think on it we will. I know you have been gone from your duties a long time. Please don’t let us keep you from them longer.” As a dismissal, it was a good one. “Bellamy, go with them, I know you are not home much and have things you would like to see to. Indra, I must press on you our audience for a few more days.”

Indra bowed, fist over heart. “Whatever the Commander needs.”

“You have my thanks, my friend.”

“Your thanks are not required.” The black woman bowed again, Octavia mirroring her moves before the both turned to leave Bellamy following behind.

The door echoed closed.

“You may say your peace now, Gustus.” Lexa stretched her legs before her as she rubbed her eyes. She did not sleep well the previous night.

Her right hand and trusted adviser turned to her. “My Heda, is this really the best idea.”

“I believe so,” she laid a hand on her stomach to quiet its complaining on her merely picking at her food earlier. “They have made no move to attack us directly, have for the most part remained on the defensive. They do want this alliance and they offer something that would benefit all of The People.”

“Technology, blah. We have all the Technology we need. They seem to be the ones lacking, having fallen from the sky.”

“Technology and Sindri.”

“You should have killed him long ago. You knew he was the White One’s spy.”

“Do not let your hate cloud your reason, Gustus. We still need him. And for that we need the sky people.”

“My Heda, they are dangerous.”

“Yes, but let us see just how dangerous and let us see if we can harness it. Sends a message for a meeting at TonDC.”

He looked like he had just been forced to eat a whole lemon, but he bowed his head to her wishes, “Yes, my Heda. ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! XD


	24. Vent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks RayanneJD, lelamarie, suku, OverlyInvestedFangirl, olioliwoo, A, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, lettucebfrank, TheBashfulPoet, Meowface, Makdawg, and Meg for your comments.

Clarke had been studying the seam where the wall met the ceiling for what was no doubt an unhealthy amount of time when the door clanked open and the Chancellor walked in stone faced. Clarke quickly sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the cot, watching her mother stare at her through the bars.

Her first words were not to her daughter at all but to the unknown guard that had followed her in. “Open the gate.” 

Clarke frowned. She had calculated it was coming up on twenty-four hours of her imprisonment, which meant that it was night again and the guard on duty should have been Murphy. She knew her mother had said Murphy was to be stripped of his position but she had hopped that it was a scare tactic to get the rest of them to behave. One Clarke had counted on the Chancellor not having to enforce by keeping her locked up. 

She found herself glaring at the new man. Thinking that unfair, he was doing nothing wrong except following orders, she turned it on her mother. 

The older woman met the glare head on, her brow pinching down at well.

“Leave us,” Abby ordered the guard without a glance in his direction. He did so closing the door to the hall behind him.

And the two women just stood there, eyes locked, in silence. 

One of her mother’s area of persuasion, that she incorporated quite often, was silence. People tended to like and fill silence and the Chancellor used that to her advantage. She also happened to be a very good listener, quickly able to hear and analyze words, tone, and inflection the speaker may not have necessarily have meant to invoke. 

As much as Clarke wanted to ask what had happen to bring her mother back so quickly, she bit her tongue, refusing to be the first one to break the standoff. 

After a long five minutes, her mother broke it herself.

“A Grounder was at the wall today with a message from their leader inviting us to their village for further talks. The Council,” her mother’s lips pinched into a bit of a sneer, “has voted to accept.”

“Great,” Clarke said, “but why has that brought you here?”

“They have named you specifically to be at this ‘visit’,” the Chancellor cast searching eyes over her daughter, “and I want to know why.”

Slightly nervous now, Clarke insolently leaned back against the wall crossing her arms. “Could it be that I’m one of the few of our people that they know? One of the few people that they can trust?”

“And that I can’t,” Abby surmised.

“Did you ever?” Old hurt welled up but she pushed it back down out of the way. Now was not the time. “I built up a bit of a relationship with one of the  _ geda _ , the girl I returned to her people. She is the second in command of the village.”

“So not only did you release a prisoner without my say so, you let go a promente Grounder figure.”

There was nothing Clarke could say to that but yes, so she simply nodded.

Abby stared at her with shocked and bewildered eyes, and spat angrily, “you’re not even sorry about it. You don’t think you’ve done anything remotely wrong, do you?”

Clarke shrugged, “it was the best course of action for the good of the Ark.”

“You’ve said that before yet I don’t believe it. The best course of action would have been for you to tell us that the captives knew our language so that we could learn from them.”

“And persuade them if they didn’t cooperate,” Clarke bit out, “I know that, Chancellor. As surprising as it seems, I thought of that as well. I’ve actually practiced it and had nothing but bile spewed at me for weeks or sullen silence. And that was with positive incentive. 

“They aren’t like us,” Clarke stressed. “They are warriors, in every sense of the word, that have had to survive the ground not some climate regulated faux-recreation in space. They are ruthless and familial ties mean everything to them. If we were to use physical force on one they all would push back ten times harder.”

“This is information you should have brought to me from the beginning.”

Clarke flinched at the censor in her voice, bringing up the small little root that still wanted her mother’s approval and hated herself for it.. 

She closed her eyes against the pain beating at her chest and the tears tightening her throat to snarl, “I never would have brought it to you. I hate seeing you because all I see is dad’s face as he is sucked through the space doors. Knowing that my mother is the reason my father is dead sickens me. I want as little to do with you as possible.” 

“Your father knew what he was doing was wrong. Knew that he should have gone to the Council with his plan and that by not doing so was he was committing a crime. It was my duty to the Council and to the Ark to protect them from the threat.”

“That you believe killing people to keep power is the best course of action is horrendous. If that is how the council is run, it should be disbanded.”

“You are talking about treason, about an uprising. Is that what we really need right now? We can start a new life down here, Clarke. Are you really willing to throw that away because you are angry with me?”

“Angry does not even begin to describe my hatred of you, mother. In doing what was ‘best for the Ark’, you destroyed my life and any shred of trust I held in the council. How many others feel the same way, do you think?”

“That sounds very much like a threat, Clarke,” Abby scolded.

“Its not a threat, its a warning. The signs of unrest have always been there. You were appointed by proxy, weren’t you? When will a new vote be held? Will the council step down to have new members build this new world?”

“Things are too hectic right now--”

Clarke scoffed, rolling her eyes and looking away. “More excuses.”

“We are not the villains you think us.” 

“If you lined up every thing you have ever done; every secret held, every law put into place, every life snuffed out, then took away the excuse that you did ‘for the Ark’, would you be able to live with yourself?” Dead air met Clarke’s softly asked question. “Then yes, you are.”

“I am done arguing this with you,” Abby said coldly after a tense second. “You got your way and we are now in negotiations with the Grounder people. Be ready for travel and in the Council chambers by 6 a.m. We leave at sun up.”

She turned and stormed from the cell, leaving the gate and the door wide open behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, guys. Some things happened in the real world that weren't conducive for writing and this transition chapter was a bit of a pill to write. Here's hoping next week is better for all of us! Best wishes ~Jay


	25. The Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks lettucebfrank, olioliwoo, OverlyInvestedFangirl, more1weasley, VronniePantz, lelamarie, TheBashfulPoet, Meg, josea, Wright, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, Makdawg, Meowface, and ukelaily for reading and commenting, it means a lot.

Clarke walked into the council room at eight minutes after the hour just to prove a point.

“Clarke, how nice of you to join us,” her mother made an even bigger point by making everyone aware of the misstep. “Please stand over there, the council will call upon you shortly.”

Under the eyes of everyone she bit the inside of her cheek and with a veiled glare joined the row of guards up against the side wall.

The council continued with the discussion her entrance had interrupted.

“If we are to fight them, we better know what we’re up against,” Councilman Pike stated. Clarke’s own Earth Studies teacher had been appointed to the council sometime during the months she had been in lockup. He was a strong advocate of keeping the ark separated from the ‘barbaric grounders,’ as he put it. 

The Chancellor raised a hand, quieting the murmurs that came from his strong opinion. “Let us not go into this with a negative outlook. Our talks are going to be centered around peaceful cohabitation not finding the best way to stab these people in the back.”

Clarke shook her head and looked away from the artful manipulation of the scene. Her mother spoke as if she had always advocated for these peace talks. If things went correctly, popular opinion would heep all the credit of the successes of the talks to her leadership. Clarke had no doubt her mother was distancing herself just enough that if things went sour that the people would commiserate with her efforts instead of blame her for the failure. Perfect platforming for her next campaign.

Thinking it over, Clarke was passively undismayed that the most likely choice for the people’s ire would be herself. Not that she wanted any of the recognition for the success, her mother could keep that place in the lime light, she just didn’t particularly want to be the one left standing holding the smoking gun alone. 

Speaking of guns. “What kind of weaponry are we taking?” she asked, interrupting the group again.

The whole room turned to her as one, confusion and a bit of haughty disdain as to why a non-member would  dare talk without being first recognised by the council.

Abby gave her a quelling look but answered her question. “The council has decided that if things were to go amise we would never be able to fight our way out. Therefore we will be taking no weapons with us”

“You want to meet the natives, within their own domaine, with nothing?” Clarke asked in abject horror. They were dooming this plan before it took off. “Are you stupid?”

That caused a bit of an uproar amongst the council. Never tell that powers that be they are dwindling in intelligence.

“You are in the presence of the council, young lady, and you will show the proper respect,” Pike growled at her.

She ignored him. As much as she respected him when he was her teacher, he was letting the power of his position go to his head. 

“It’s the wrong move,” she spoke directly to her mother. “They’ve already seen us prepared and that means with weapons. ”

“Were you not drugged at the time?” Diana Sydney said trying to discredit her with a poisonous smile. A previous chancellor that had lost her seat over a decade ago to Thelonious and had been reinstated as a Councilman just after the fall. She never missed a chance to undermine her mother, vying for the position. “How would you know that?”

Clarke rolled her eyes, unimpressed with the woman’s lazy attempt at cutting her mother by belittling the daughter. “I know standard protocol and I’ve been through the training myself. Any group leaving the fence has a minimum of two guards. As the Chancellor and a Councilman was a part of that group that bumps the number of guards to four. As the councilman himself happens to be Commander of the guard adds yet another armed member. That's five-plus guns for eight people. If we show up with nothing now they will see that as an insult.”

“How,” Marcus spoke up. Abby shot him a dirty look for encouraging this. He met it with a raised brow,  _ why are you upset? This is information that will help us, _ he nodded in her daughter's direction.  _ We’ve put her in this mess, the least we can do is listen to her. _

Abby felt her heart squeeze. He was right. But if only Clarke had stayed out of it, hadn’t stirred the pot to begin with, then none of this would have happened. Abby was now put in the position of not only having to put herself in harm's way, but her daughter as well. Sometimes she hated the council as much as Clarke did. But leaders didn’t get to bow out when things got hard. So instead she centered herself, took a deep breath and gave Clarke her whole attention as she went about answering Marcus’s question.

“To them, us entering their domain with no weapons is akin to saying ‘we see you as so little a threat, we don’t need weapons to beat you.’ This will cause a lot of them to test that and boom, the exact results we are trying to avoid. How many people will be traveling with us?”

“Five.” Abby answered

Clarke frowned. “Five? Five guards?”

“No,” Abby gritted out doing her damndest to ignore the curl to Diana’s lips. “Three guards, then you and I.”

Clarke’s jaw dropped as her mind tried to compute the information she was receiving. “You want to take three guards and the leader of the Ark, with no weapons, into a geda village.” She looked incredulous around the table at seven faces. “This is the best plan you’ve come up with?” 

 “The Council has voted,” Councilman Sydney purred. “It is the chancellor's duty to be at these talks, you they have named specifically. We can not risk sending weapons that could then be turned against us nor can we spare more men that have the possibility of not returning.”

“Oh do shut up,” Clarke could only stomach so much faux benevolence, and the cackling hyena was laying it on thick.

“Clarke, one more outburst like that and you will be ejected from the room,” the Chancellor scolded as she silently applauded her daughter’s daring. It was her job to keep order within the room, even as much as she liked seeing the councilwoman be put in her place.

“So what do you suggest,” Tor Lemkin, a man from populous raised to Councilman stadius post-fall, questioned the girl. He was the father of Reese, the young girl recovering from oxygen deprivation blindness.

“Quadrupling the guards at least,” Clarke answered him.

“We are not taking twelve guards for two people,” Abby protested that much waste.

“You’re right, we’re taking twelve guards several people, at least one from every Fraction. And of course the Chancellor,” she cast a syrupy sweet smile and Sydney, “as it is her duty to be at these talks.”

The councilwoman glared the girl down, “The Council has already voted--”

“So I propose,” Marcus interrupted, “with this new information we vote again. All those in favor of having a more proficient force greet the grounders to show them the benefits of joining with us, please raise your hand.” 

His own hand lifted into the air, Tor’s followed. Muir’s, one of the original Councilman, was a bit slower but it did rise. 

“All those opposed?” Marcus questioned.

Diana’s shot into the air as the other’s lowered. Kaplan, who had been seated on the council do to her tie breaking vote when she had been chancellor, raised his hand as well. 

All eyes turned to Pike, who sat with his hands folded in front of him.

“Councilman?” Abby prompted.

“I see the positives and negatives of each side. The more people, the bigger the potential blood bath, but the more people the more likely we are to get back the information we need to beat the savages.” Pike sat back in his seat, “therefor I abstain.” He turned to Clarke, “good job, girl. You were always good at public speaking, I’m glad it’s payed off.” Floored by the complement, Clarke could only nod in acknowledgment. “I just hope, for your own sake, you know what you’re doing.”

Clarke found herself wishing the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more politics. Just what everyone loves to read.   
> Also:  
> May the Fourth be with you.


	26. Two Sides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-oh olioliwoo, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, Wright, TheBashfulPoet, OverlyInvestedFangirl, suku, ELSchaaf, and lettucebfrank.  
> And welcome to who I believe are new members; moonlight_dreamer, SoBe, itoldyouso2718, bornafluffychild, myonetruelove.  
> Thank you all for your support.

After her little episode in the council she wasn’t all too surprised when they had asked her to leave so that they could decide who from each fraction would be going. Annoyed, but not surprised. 

It wasn’t as if the idea itself didn’t have merit, it did. She just wished it didn’t have so politically fueled. The best way to show their potential greatness was to show off their greatness. She knew they wouldn’t pick the top of any of the respected fields, if things did go wrong they would be too necessary for the Ark’s survival. However, even a novice with rudimentary understanding of their field would go a long way with showing the  _ geda  _ all they could gain by giving them a chance for this alliance.

Clarke decided to use what would no doubt be a few hours of arguing on the council's part to go see how her comrades had fared after their little debacle. She hopped they had taken her mother up on her offer of freedom for silence the same way Wells had. 

She also needed to find out what came of Murphy’s punishment and how she could go about getting absolution from him. Knowing him he no doubt believed they had dumped all the blame on him to get out of their own punishment, a narrative compounded by Wells and Monty preserve freedom and his background of detesting the elite. 

She ran into Monty first, which was a surprise. She would have assumed that he would have been out with his group on a research trip.

“Part of my punishment, camp arrest.” He shrugged off her apologies, having laid no blame on her. “It wasn’t like we didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into. And if things work out, I get to claim I help make it happen.”

“And if it fails,” she said thinking of the thousands of ways this could explode in her face.

He laid a hand on her shoulder, “I get to say I tried. That’s all any of us can do, Clarke. If things go wrong its not going to be just your fault.”

She gave a pained smile, “I don’t think the majority of the Ark or the council will agree with you.”

“You didn’t see the people yesterday when that geeda scout game up to the gate,” he started out in the direction of the main gate as he remembered. “At first there was mass panic and the gates were pulled shut. Then, when he got within range the guards saw that he was holding a white flag. You could feel the curiosity through the people when he called out, in english, that he had a message for our Chancellor. 

He turned to look at her, “that was the first time many had seen a native and they saw him carrying a banner of peace. When he spoke the message aloud many listened. Popular opinion has gone a long way into getting the council to agree with the demands. And you are the one to spark that.”

Not comfortable with the praise he was laying at her feet, she changed the subject. “Have you heard anything about Murphy?”

Monty shook his head, becoming pensive, “I saw Wells almost immediately after being released. He told me to keep my head down and listen to the council's orders. I thought it was good advice and wanted to pass it on to Murphy because I didn’t think Wells would but he wasn’t in his rooms. I asked Jasper if he had seen him crashing any of the gatherings but he hasn’t.”

“My mom claimed they were going to use him as the example. I was hoping she was simply trying to get me to bend to her will. Guess I was wrong in that.”

“Can she do that?”

Clarke gave him a look, somewhat shocked at his naivety after the week they had. “She’s the Chancellor.”

“I know that, I just thought….” he trailed off frowning.

It was her turn to pat his shoulder. “It’s hard being on the other side of the looking glass, isn’t it.”

“Does it get easier with knowing?”

“No.”

* * *

 

Not wanting to get in another moral argument with Wells and having no idea where to begin looking for a intuitive teen that didn’t want to be found she went to the medward to see if she could lend a hand with whatever time she had remaining, trying not to let the thought turn down morbid roads. 

Palomina was the first to greet her, throwing her arms around her in a hug the second she stepped through the door. 

“I’ve been so worried. I’ve never known you to miss a day even when you probably should have. I check your room and you weren’t there.” As she continued to talk, Clarke lead her over to the storage closet for the semblance of privacy. “I even went to talk to your friend, the one that came in yesterday? He said you were fine, but did couldn’t say when you would be coming back to work. What happened?”

“I can’t say a lot but it has something to do with the council and the native that came to the gates yesterday.”

“But you were missing even before the grounder came--” Eyes widening she lowered her voice, “is this why you’ve been acting odd the last several days?

“Yes.” Clarke eyed the girl, wondering how much she had fit together from little clues she had picked up. And here she thought she had been hiding things so well. 

Palomina lowered her voice further, “are you in trouble? Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, no. I just need you and Glass to take care of all the patients and keep the other medtechs in line for me until I get back.”

Her jaw dropped. “Your going to be apart of the meeting? With the grounders? I mean, I know the message named you specifically, but being the Chancellor's daughter I thought they would keep you out of it.”

“Well, the Chancellor's going, too, so-”

“The Chancellor is going!”

“Shhh! If that's not common knowledge, I don’t want it spread all over camp.”

“But if the chancellor is going, the people should be made aware of it.”

“And they will be when she leaves. Its not like she’s going to sneak out of camp with an armed guard. She is going to make the opening moves with the natives for an alliance.”

“We’re going to make an alliance with the barbarians?” Palamina snarled.

Taken aback by the anger in the girl's voice, Clarke was silent for a second. “That is where we are headed with these talks, yes.”

“After all that they’ve done to us, we’re going to make peace? How could the council be so stupid?”

Keeping herself in check, Clarke asked carefully, “you think its stupid to want to live down her peacefully?”

“Who says it’s going to be peaceful? The grounders? We can’t trust their word. They see us as the bigger threat with our guns and technology and they will slaughter us to get it.”

“You don’t know that.”

She looked at Clarke shocked. “I know the council has agreed to this, but please don’t tell me you do too. Not after all the people that we’ve had to sew up after getting caught up in one of their traps. Not after all the people that have died.”

“This is a way to prevent more deaths,” Clarke tried to reason.

“By bowing to the murders?” Palomina looked Clarke up and down, disgusted. “You know what, I think you should leave. Now. Glass and I can look after the patients from now on. Your help won't be needed here anymore, princess.”

As a parting blow it was a good one. And it hurt to be discarded by yet another person you believed to be a friend. The girls had talked more than once about their drive to be helpful, needed, wanted. To have that tossed back in her face now…

“As a medical supervisor-”

The girl scoffed arms folded looking for a confrontation, “only because your mother is the chancellor.” 

“Be that as it may, you do not get to dictate to me when and where my expertise are needed.” Clarke kept herself controlled, letting the anger swirl around her instead of being engulfed by it. That would only make thing worse.

“Fine,” the girl bit out. “If you get back, we’ll talk about who will switch shift.”

Clarke shook her head. “If you find your shift not to your liking, I suggest you handle it yourself. Our personal disagreement aside, if you can not handle following me orders, I suggest you find another apprenticeship to apply for entirely.” 

With a withering glare the girl turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her. 


	27. Outmanned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OverlyInvestedFangirl, myonetruelove, olioliwoo, Makdawg, ukelaily, Wright, ES, smarticles96; I hope all your guys's week was great :)

Clarke didn’t remain in medical after her altercation with Palomina. Instead she wandered down the hall and into her room in a fog.

Was the Palomina right, was this a mistake? It was true, in more than one case, that she had been wrist deep in blood after a _geda_ attack. Her mind flashed to Hannah, the sweet faced girl that had died from walking into a trap. She saw the anguish on Hannah’s friends faces when she had to tell them the girl didn’t make it.

So many others had died in similar manners. So many friends and family would want to take it out on the _geda._ Was it fair to force them into an alliance with a people that was the cause of their loved one's death?

But it would be an alliance, a way to make sure no one else lost friends the way they had. Would anyone see it that way? Or would they be so wrapped up in their own grief, their own need for vengeance that that would only want to quiet their own hurt and, in by so doing, throw them all into a war?

It was both to late and too early to be borrowing the trouble of what others would do. Things were already in the works and, just like Monty, all she could do was try and keep things together to get the outcome she wanted. The one most might not want, but the one they all desperately needed if they were going to live down here.

Clarke sat down heavey on her bed, hands pressed hard up against her eyes and sighed. She was so tired. Even after her mother left and the guard had informed her she was indeed free to return to her own room she hadn't gotten much sleep.

She should get back to the council room. She had no idea how long the talks would be and didn’t really want to chance furthering the councils rather after her displate earlier. On the other hand the talks could go on for hours yet. Thinking this would be the first place anyone would look for her, after the medward, if the council finished their talks before she expected, she eased back in bed.

Debating weather to chance the dark dreams that hovered just below her conscious for a few minutes sleep her hand brushed to cool surface of her tablet.

She sighed again, sitting up. Not trusting herself to not pass out if she remained on the bed she got up and moved to the small table in the corner, fiddling with the tablet as she brought up her sound library of _geda_ words.

Sitting down in the one chair she synced the system it to her earbud. If she was set on going into enemy territory, she might as well try to understand what they were yelling at her before they slit her throat.

* * *

 

Three hours. It took three hours for the council to come to a decision on who would be traveling to the _geda_ village. Thinking she had pushed it long enough, Clarke had made her way back to the council room after an hour and then proceeded to pace the hall waiting for them to finish.

How difficult was it really to pick someone from each working faction? The first week had been solely devoted to making an in depth list of who and who had not survived the landing. Two minutes, if, at scrolling through to pick a tech. Maybe five if they did a little more research into who didn’t have any family to miss them if they didn’t return, who wasn’t of great importance, and, if it mattered to them, who didn’t have a personal vendetta against the _geda_ to begin with, ie: the reason they had not family to not miss them. It did not take three hours.

Clarke shook her head, disgusted. Politics.

Finally the doors open and the council filled out. Clarke jumped to her feet more than ready to move forward with this.

Tor and Mur did not make eye contact with her, almost as if they felt guilty, as they filed passed. Sydney, Kaplan at her shoulder, marched past with a smug smirk. Pike laid a hand on her shoulder, reminding her much more of her teacher then a councilman, before her moved passed.  

She waited a second for Marcus and her mother to walk out. When they didn’t she stepping in.

Her mother was finishishing giving a guard directions. Marcus stood behind her, arms crossed. The guard bowed as the Chancellor finished talking and moved past Clarke. He met her gaze just briefly, his eyes pitting. This wasn’t going to be good.

As the door shut behind the guard, the tension in the room seemed to elevate.

“You couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could you?” her mother sighed, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, her gaze pointedly turned away from Clarke.

“Abby, this will all work out,” Marcus soothed.

“How, Marcus? How!” she exploded. “It was bad enough when I was ordered to take my own daughter into that cesspit, but now I have to take several more. Friends, colleagues. People I trust and whom trust me. I feel like I’m betraying them.” _I feel like I’m betraying you,_ her eyes screamed.

Clarke looked between the two. She knew something had been boiling just below the surface since they had landed, their years of friendship turning ever so slightly into something more. But her father haddn’t ever been dead a year and already his wife and best friend were betraying him. For the second time.

Sickened, but having no time to air her personal grievances, she broke in. “Who will be joining us?”

The Chancellor composed herself turned to Clarke “I will be going as the representative for the council. Since you’ve already been forced into this, you will be a representative of the medtechs. Dr. Green will be joining us from Agro, Officer Catwig from Sanitation, and a Mr. Justin Smalls from Salvage.”

Sanitation onboard the ark had been its own official branch. When they had first landed Nygle, the unofficial black market broker, had taken it upon herself to set up the faction building it up into what is was now; the melding pot of jobs for everything that happened within the wall. Things like the cook’s division, laundry, food dispersal, and a dozen other odds-and-ends that it took to keep the society running along smoothly was sweep under the umbrella of ‘sanitation.’

Knowing it unwise to let someone as conniving and self serving as the ex-culinary tech hold rein over such a large portion of the populous, the powers-that-be quietly inserted one of their own, First Officer Callie Catwig, into the position. Nygle was still technically the head of the faction, at least according to data entries, but instead of having run of it she was watched and monitored closely.

Salvage was the name they made up for the team that went out and ‘salvaged’ what they could from the wreckage of the other downed stations. Bringing it back to see what could be made from the components by Mech.

“No one from Mech?” Clarke asked. With the council already sending off two highly trained and vital members, on top of the Chancellor, Clarke had thought she should check if they had also made the asinine decision to send an engineer as the cherry on top.

“No,” Abby shook her head. “With so few, the closest anyone on the council would think to getting to engineering personnel is the man from salvage.”

With a total of three in the Mech field, two engineers, one of those being an apprentice, and a highly trained mechanic, they were too precious a commodity.

“Is Catwig standing in for the Guards as well?” Clarke questioned, naming the last guild not accounted for. That at least would make since why you would send one of the highest ranking member of a faction. She could even see the argument being made for Monty’s mother joining the expedition because she had such extensive combat training since landing.

“No,” Abby growled low, cutting sharp eyes to Marcus.

“I will be stepping in as the representative from Guard unit.”

Clarke felt her jaw go slack. No wonder the bitch Sydney had been so smug, in one fell swoop she had nearly cleared the way for herself back as Chancellor. Everyone, besides perhaps the Justin guy, was personally attached to the current Chancellor. All they had to do was die at the grounder meeting and Diana would cement herself back into the position of power, a large portion of who would nay say her would be gone.

“How could you let this happen?” As much as she warred with her mother on a personal level, she was a much better option in the current situation as Chancellor then Diana Sydney.

“It wasn’t as if I was given much of a choice. First you, then the grounders, now Diana. I’m being pushed in a hundred directions and any and all slip ups cost people their lives. Do you see that now, Clarke? With the true enemies closing in do you see that I’m trying to be the good guy in a room full of bad?”

“Who are you trying to convince?”

Her eyes were sad as she searched her daughter's face, “no one.” Taking a deep breath, falling back in on herself she let the Chancellor mask fall back into place. “The guards are rounding up the other members of our group. We are all to meet at the gate in twenty minutes. If there is anything you need to do, I suggest you do it now.”

 _You might not get another chance,_ hung in the air silent and oppressive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I have no idea how I was able to wring another chapter out of this scenario but there it is. Next week for sure we are getting back to the Geda.


	28. TonDC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you olioliwoo, Dearlyfantastical5511, smarticles96, gotwdshipsl, myonetruelove, A, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, nzfangirl01 for your wonderful comments. 
> 
> Happy belated birthday to OverlyInvestedFangirl, hope your day was great!!
> 
> And special thanks to 09Tiff86 for feedback and I will be working on tightening issues up here in the future.
> 
> ~We hit over 15,000 hits!!!!!!

It was nearly ten in the morning when the group was finally ready to set out through the camp’s gate. The camp, already a bustle of activity at this time, came nearly to a standstill as they all gathered to watch the group ready to depart, ten gunners at the ready.

Clarke watched Marcus gently touched Abby on the arm as she was settling her backpack on her shoulders. Her mother looked up looked up at him as, with his eyes, he directed her to the hushed masses. Looking over the field of faces her mother gave the smallest of nods before stepping forward. 

“People of the Ark, I and several others go to finish peace talks with the grounders so our children and our children’s children will never know of the heart ache of war. Let us all do our part to see that future come to fruition.”

None of the Chancellor's earlier trepidation showed in her voice. She was all gentle smiles and convincing words, as if the outcome of the meeting had already been decided and this was just a social call. Clarke silently applauded the chancellor's cunning as the people slowly turned back to their work.

With a signal from Marcus, the group headed out. Marcus and Callie, as the two highest ranking Officers, took point directing the gunners to encircle the more civilian members of their team. In difference to their poision as Ambassadors they kept their service weapons hostels and didn’t carry the bullpup rifle the rest of the guard carried.

Two hundred yards from the tree line three geda men appeared on the path making themselves clearly visible to the approaching Akrers. Clarke let out a sigh she didn’t know she had been holding. Someone, Octavia no doubt, had prompted them in how to deal with her people. Where in high tensions situations, a surprise could prove deadly. 

The group waited for the Arkers to reach them. Two had their faces covered with the masks comment to their people. Their leader, a tall man with a shaved head and faced barred looked them over, his eyes were hard as he memorized faces and counted threats. With a sneer he turned and walked into the woods.

The Arkers passed confused looks between themselves as the two masked ones turned and followed the other man. 

“I’m not an expert like everyone else here,” Justine, the twenty-three year old scavenger imputed, “but I think we’re supposed to follow them.” He did just that, threading his way through the shocked group.

“Back in line, Smalls,” Marcus caught him by the backpack, pulling him back to the group. Muttering something about the impatience of kids these days, he cast a couple of hands signs to the guards. “Okay, everyone, move out.”

The group was tense as the  _ geda  _ led them through the forest.The walk was quiet, not a lot of chatting going on with their guides or with each other. Staying just close enough to their guids to lose them in the dense foliage but far enough back that, if they did turn on the group, the gunners would have precious seconds of reaction time. 

The sun reached its zenith and passed on, and still they walked. 

Three morel grueling hours later keeping to a steady clip, a yipping cry echoed through the trees. The guides returned the sound before breaking into a loping sprint. Their group looked at one another but kept to their own pace heading in the general directions the men went. 

Almost out of nowhere the village sprang into existence. Well a wall sprang into existence, a clobbered together mass of scrap metal that rose into the air fifteen feet. What probably passed as a gate was lashed open. 

A glance passed through the adults. Marcus gestured for the guards to lower their weapons as they slowly moved through the gate.

There was a tense minute while the two people became aware of each other. 

“Clarke,” Everyone, native and Arker alike, turned to see the warrior girl at the top a natural rise within the village, one of their masked guides at her shoulder. 

“Octavia,” Clarke grinned returning the greeting, relieved to see a semi-friendly face. She stepped through the group to meet the girl as she walked down the natural root steps.

The girl pulled her into a hug. Shocked, and a bit disturbed by this show of intimacy, half waiting for a knife in the ribs, Clarke nonetheless hugged her back. To do anything less would destroy whatever image Octavia was trying to project. 

“The Commander and my Chief will be here soon,” Octavia spoke in her ear, quickly and hushed. “I have spoken for you, but you and your people must prove yourself without my aid.”

Clarke added pressure to the girl's shoulders to show her she heard and understood and Octavia let her go to standing at rights of her.

Clarke followed her example, surveying the tense reception of the two nations coming together. With the Seconds approval of the outsiders the rest of the  _ geda _ we more curious now than hostile. “Things are moving quickly.”

“In this I think quickly is best. The less time we have to bloody each other, the easier it will be to wash away the blood already shed.”

Clarke nodded at the wisdom. Not that the blood already shed would be all that easy to washed off, but it wasn’t quite at the point of war so she decided to be happy about that. And they were in talks for future peace.

“How are the others doing?” Octavia asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve been confined in the very nice cell next to yours since we parted.”

Octavia grunted, “I take it your mother didn’t approve?”

Clarke snorted a half laugh in reply. “Nice touch, by the way, with making the invitation public.”

Octavia shrugged. “It was safest for our warrior.”

“And the most forceful to get the council to bow to public opinion. Smart.”

Octavia shrugged again. “Your technology will greatly benefit my people, too.”

“Yes,” Clarke replied eyeing the head of the  _ heda _ as the natives parted to open a path for her. “Now let us see if we can get everyone else to agree with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one this week, sorry about that. A friend called up and we went hiking yesterday (~2.5 miles all up hill, then ~2.5miles back down, wth was I thinking?) so I didn't get a lot of writing time this week.  
> Any thoughts on what to have the Grounder leaders and the Sky leaders talk about for next week would be really helpful. :)


	29. Drink of the Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> myonetruelove, 09Tiff86, OverlyInvestedFangirl, gotwdshipsl, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, suku, olioliwoo, Jodygoroar, Lemi.  
> Thanks to all of your for you lovely comments, they make me want to write.

Lexa stepping through the surrounding _geda_. Her shadow Gustus, the man that had attacked Clarke with a sword the previous night, and a black woman Clarke did not recognize fanned out behind her. She gave a regal nodded at her mother, “Chancellor Abby Griffin of Ee-yrk.”

Clarke and Octavia shared a look between each other befor slipping back to their respected groups. From Clarke’s shifting angle she saw a small boy squirm through the crowed to the man who attacked her’s side with a tray that held two silver goblets. The man stepped out of line slightly, accepted the tray with one hand while he mused the child's hair with the other. The scamp grinned up at the menacing, leather clad warrior before slithering back through the crowed.

“Commander Lexa TreeClan of the People.” Abby returned the greeting as Marcus and the others fanned out in a similar manner to their _geda_ counterparts, the guards posted at their back like a buffer.

“Welcome to TonDc. Let me introduce our host, Indra, Chief of the Tree Clan.”

The hard face black woman stepped forward her eyes cutting them all with her burning disdain. “ _Trikru_.”

Lexa dipped her head in acknowledged deference. “Indra, _Wocha kom Trikru._ I trust you remember her second, Octavia?” Just as hard faced as her mistress she stepped forward and nodded. “And my men, Gustus and Bellamy,” Lexa waved to indicate the two men behind her, they did not step forward or in anyway acknowledge their names.

Already knowing Gustus by sight, Clarke was infer that the other man, the one who had attacked her, was Bellamy. If it became important later on she would find a way to subtly let the rest of her group know.

Common courtesy had Abby naming her party. They settled for a brief nod at their names. It was strange how intently everyone of the _geda,_ not just the ones introduced but even the surrounding witnesses, payed attention the the names being called. It was as if they were committing them to memory.  

At the end of the list Lexa nodded. Making a small gesture, Bellamy stepped forward holding the tray with the two goblets. Taking hold of both, Lexa stepped forward offering one to Abby and holding the second in reserve for herself. “Come, let us drink to this meeting of people.”

Everyone of the Arkers knew poison was a real threat. Clarke had lost count of how many of their people had died from direct altercation with the natives from something as inconsequential as a scratch from one of their blades. In some cases they had been able to mix up an antidote from their stores. Sometimes not.

Abby would not drink from the cup. Even if, as the Chancellor, she had been willing to reach for it, Marcus would have slapped if from her hands. To pluto with the consequences.

And there would be consequences. Of all intensive purposes this was being viewed by the surrounding _geda_ as a peace offering. To not accept could very well be the catalyst that would sparks the war.

It was a powerplay, in no other unlikely terms. Or more ept, a dare to see how far they could trust one another.

The standoff was growing more pronounced. The slight about to be called.

Clarke took a deep breath, letting it out quietly. Everyone was so focused on the two leaders they didn’t notice Clarke as she stepped forward and slid the cup out of the Commander's hand.

“Clarke--” her mother gasped. Before Abby had a chance to stop her and before Clarke could give in to the little voice scream how stupid an idea this really was, she tipped the contents down her throat like it as a game of Moonshine Washers at one of Jasper’s parties.

Which turned out to be a good thing, the alcohol in the goblet held quite the punch. Not quite the ‘kick-your-teeth-in’ potencie of some of Jasper’s more recent batches but definitely enough to set her off her stride. The mild dehydration from walking, coupled with a nearly empty stomach were not doing her any favors either. The last thing any of them needed was her to collapse after a drink. What she wouldn’t give for some water at this time.

“That’s good,” Clarke said licking her lips, doing her best to ignore the burn and the slight buzz already working its way through the system. “What’s it made out of?”

Lexa’s face was blank but a hint of mirth danced in her eyes. “Strawberries.”

Clarke’s eyes wondered over the rest of the line up, no one was passing out any more cups. “Where is everyone else's?”

“It is _Faya Wanlida_ , the ceremonial drink of leaders,” Bellamy growled darkly. “There is no more.”

“Oh,” taking heart the she couldn’t have messed up too badly if the _heda_ was amused, Clarke held out the empty cup. “Well it was delicious. When we return, I’ll make sure to bring some of our own ‘ceremonial drink’ to make up for drinking the last of yours. Its not as tasty, but it gets the job done.”

“Bellamy over dramatizes,” Lexa said accepting the goblet back and handing it to the man in question without taking her eyes off Clarke. “It is the end of our stores from last season, yes. But in a few months the wild strawberries will be ripe enough to pick for the coming year’s batch.”

“Still, we will bring some of our own as a show of good faith and as a thank you for your hospitality,” Abby stepped forward, tugging her daughter away from the grounder woman and back into the fold of their own group.

“There are others gifts I want you to bring me the next time we meet, Chancellor.” The pointed words had a sharp edge to them. “Come, let us discuss them in more depth by the fire as the meats finish roasting. The feasting will begin soon. Your people are free to roam among us as they would like. No harm will come to them while they hold under my banner.”

She turned and lead the way through the crowd, Gustus and Bellamy fell into step behind her so effortlessly it looked choreographed. Octavia whispered something in her Indra’s ear before, with a look of warning, the black woman followed the departing party. Octavia remained, standing off to the side, looking expectantly at Clarke.

Clarke moved to join her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” her mother growled jerking her back to the group.

Clarke shrugged her off, turning a hard glare on her, “don’t grab me again.” The alcohol was rushing through her system and she was in no mood for her mother’s protective behavior. “As to your question, I am taking the _heda_ ’s generous offer of protection to move about the camp with impunity.”

“And if a Grounder gets it in their head that they don’t like the way you look and kills you, what then?” Abby hissed quietly.

Octavia, having overheard, stepped forward, “then the man or woman in question would have broken faith with the Commander and The People and therefore forfeit their life to a traitor's death. They would be tied to a stake while every member of the wronged party would take turns making a cut on their body. If they survived that, the one closest to the wronged would have the honor in dealing the deathblow. In Clarke’s case it would be you as next of kin, or the _Heda_ as it was her word that was violated.”

Clarke blinked away that morbid image, turning back to the group, “You see, nothing to worry about. We need to talk with these people, to learn the best way we will be able to work and live down here together. We can’t do that if we distrust having our backs turned on them. Who knows when we will have this chance again, we should make the most of it.”

This time, when she stepped away, no one stopped her. Octavia fell into step beside her. They walked for a bit, no real aim, just away from the key players in this melodrama.

“What you said earlier,” Clarke began, “about the traitor’s death? Were you just making that up for my mother’s benefit?”

“No,” the girl’s tone was haunted.

Clarke nodded her head, thinking what the implications were to the information she had swimming in her brain, the confidential things Octavia had told her about her people. How much danger she had placed herself in by talking with Clarke. “Okay, next question. Do you know where a girl can get some water?”

There was a smile to her words when she answered. “Yes, this way.”

* * *

 

Clarke stood panting over the water barrels after having downed three jars of the thirst quenching liquid, “thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Octavia chirped, her eyes scanning over the milling people.

“No,” Clarke said serious, “thank you. I know what you did for me, for my people. Your debt is payed in full and I release you from any further obligations.”

Her eyes locked onto a point across the village. Lincoln, having had seen her talking to Clarke, was making a beeline for them. His focused walk and unblinking star had people quickly moving out of his way. “My debt to you is nowhere near finished.”

Hearing the wishful note in the girl's voice she turned, seeing the warrior plowing through the crowed. “You were concerned that he would kill himself, weren't you? That's why you had me go out there. You were hoping we weren't too late to stop him from doing something idiotic _._ He doesn't seem like one to break, does he? Being so big and strong. But when I met him I saw a shattered man. No doubt he was about to storm the castle killing as many of the people he perceived took you from him as he could.”

Octavia dashed as the wetness at her cheek angrily, “ _Branwoda hef_ s.”

“Stupid men, indeed.” And the stupid girls that fall for them.

Lincoln stepped up to next to his lover ghosting a knuckle along her left wrist before subtly placing himself just in front of Octavia. Keeping himself between her and Clarke.

Trying to hide a smirk at his near tangible dislike for her, Clarke tipped her head in greeting, “Lincoln.”

He just stared her down, mute.

“Oh, Octavia,” Clarke remembered, unslinging one strap so she could swing the backpack around and dig into it, “I have something for you."

The second her eyes were down she felt the tension around them spike. Out of the corner of her eyes she caught a flicker of movement, followed quickly by another. In the time it took her to look up she saw Lincoln’s hand fisted around the knife at his belt and Octavia’s wrapped tightly around around his, keeping the blade in its sheath.

Octavia gave her a tight smile at her alarmed look. “He doesn’t really trust you right now.”

“ _Em feisbona yu_.” he spat, eyes glowering at Clarke.

“ _Hosh, Niron,_ ” Octavia purred at him. Turning to Clarke she asked, “what did you bring me?”

“I remember you telling me you liked the art in books,” slowly Clarke pulled out the tome careful to not startle Lincoln again. “The Iliad. It has the most artwork of any novel that made it to the ground.”

“Thank you,” she touched the gilded cover, gently opening it to a random page studying the illustrations inside. "I can't accept this, wont it be missed?"

“Think of it as a gift of friendship. It’s already been uploaded to the Ark's database, so its not like we’re losing it forever. It probably hasn't been touched in decades before the crash. Please, keep it. Share it with others who might find it just as fascinating.”

She traced a picture of a man in a horse drawn chariot, remembering the stories her brother would tell her as a little girl about such a time; Romans, Gladiator battles, the origins of her own name. They were memories she treasured. “Then as a friend I accept.”

* * *

 

 _“Wocha kom Trikru”_ (Cheif of the Wood Clan)

 _“Faya Wanlida”_ (fire Bringer of Death; Dragon’s Breath)

“ _Branwoda hef_ s.” (Stupid men)

“ _Em feisbona yu.”_ (She poisoned you)

“ _Hosh, Niron.”_ (Hush, beloved.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support. It means a lot.


	30. Knowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm a bit late but I'm back!!! The weeks off weren't as productive as I hoped they would be but I do have a pretty decent chapter if I do say so myself ;)  
> Thank you so much for the support for the last true chapter and the ones that found me when I was on my little break.  
> 09Tiff86, SwallowedbyFandom, nzfangirl01, lettucebfrank, OverlyInvestedFangirl, myonetruelove, TheBashfulPoet, suku, olioliwoo, Jodygoroar, LexaLee93, Bellarke, Lemi, Makdawg, A, Ekayla, lila, Liv_it_Up124, and fangirlFiona. 
> 
> *~*~*~ SO I did something a bit different.~*~*~*  
> There is a lot of trigedasleng in this chapter. I have numbered them (ie. 1, 2, 3 ect). On a laptop you can use the short cut keys (ctrl) and (f), then type in the designated number and have it jump to the translation and back by hitting (enter). I was thinking this would be a bit helpful so people weren't constantly scrolling back and forth, losing their place.  
> Let me know what you think so I can keep it if it works or cut it. Thanks ~Jay

“Should we leave them unsupervised?” Bellamy hissed quietly standing at the corner of the dais trying to see what was keeping the outsiders so long.

“They have come as my guests, Bellamy. Noone here will raise a hand to them.”

“That is not what I’m concerned about.” He growled as he paced along the raised edge, uneasy now that he could not see the enemy in their midst. It had been nearly ten minutes since they had left them at the gate, where were they? Where was his sister? It was not like he could leave to investigate. His place was here, at his _Heda’_ s side.

“Boy,” Indra growled from her place on the bench beside Lexa, “be still. The battle has not yet begun. Conserver your strength.”

Once that voice would have cowed him but no longer. He bared his teeth in a snarl at the Chief for daring to reprimand him like a child he no longer was.

“Bellamy,” Lexa did not even look up from supervising the placement of the meal the servers were laying out before them. She had taken off her red mantle leaving her in her flexible, black leather armor.

She was _Heda_ , Commander of the Twelve Clans, and her word was law above all. Only to her would he bend; by privilege as well as choice. Forcing himself to calm he took his place standing behind her. Still, he kept his eyes searching the crowed.

It was the tall one first he saw first, the dark haired man that had stood guard over the blond witch while he had stood guard over his sister. Bellamy gave a grunt to let the others know the outsiders were coming. Much like himself, Bellamy knew that the other man remained close to his _heda’s_ side.

Lexa stood to greet them as the filed up the steps. “Come, sit. Share a meal with us. We have first cut of the deer and boar Indra’s warriors brought in this morning.”

“Thank you-” the Chancellor began before being interrupted.

“Where is the blond one?” Bellamy demanded. Everyones eyes cut to him. Only three people had stepped up onto the daise, his sister and the she-demon were not among them.

Abby cut sharp eyes over him, “Clarke went walking around the town with Octavia. The rest of our group also decided to take the _heda,”_ the sky leader nodded in her direction, “up on her kinda offer to see the whole of TonDc.”

No doubt counting their numbers and getting the layout of their village.

Lexa nodded gesturing to the bench on her left as she resumed her own seat, “they are free to eat as the rest of the food becomes done.”

Being a good host Lexa herself was the one who passed around food and had ale dispersed in earthenware cups to the surrounding guests.

“So, what exactly is it that you want from us?” casually picking through her own place, Lexa asked.

The Chancellor looked up from her awkward attempts of eating with her hands while holding plate almost as if she was confused by the question. Glancing around at her comrades, she finally answered. “Peace.”

“Yes,” Lexa sipped from her cup before replacing it back at her ankles, “but was does this ‘peace’ look like to you?”

Again, Abby shared a look with her people.  “No more fighting, no more death. We wish to live down here without fear. If that means aligning ourselves with you, then we will do it.”

“Everything dies, _star queen,_ ” Indra spoke for the first time in the meeting, her gravely tone hard. _“_ And only fools do not have fear.”

“What my general means,” Lexa spoke up, interpreting the threatening words before the sky people could take offence, “is that humans are not the only enemy here, the ground is just as big of a threat. While we can help circumvent some of the dangers our aid will not be able to wholly stop your people from dieing.”

“What we need is a chance,” the dark haired Marcus implored. “A chance to find our feet here on the ground.”

“So, a formal alliance is what you’re after and what you offer is technology,” Lexa clarified.

Indra scoffed. “That will take months. Time to gather the all the heads of all the clans and get them in one room without slitting each other's throats.”

“And longer still to get them to even think about nominating you for a position in the Coalition. Then months more for them to decide to vote and still they may vote against you. Unless…” Lexa trailed off, her eyes flickering around as she ran through scenarios and pitfalls only she could see.

Abby shared a look with Marcus before prompting, “unless?”

Abruptly, Lexa turned to Bellamy, “go to your sister and let her know her presence is needed here.”

Hiding a confused frown, he nodded, sprinting from the daise without even taking the time to use the four steps as he launched himself into the crowed.

As he searched his mind turned over what Lexa could possibly be plotting. She was renownedly closed mouth, which thus far had proved beneficial for her goals. It, however, left him and Gustus in the difficult position of keeping her safe without knowing her next step on more than one occasion.

It was taking him longer then he wanted to find his sister and the sky witch to the point he was almost frantic. Had she poisoned her again? Tried to kidnap her? Hurt her in anyway? Finally he found them in a tucked away corner of the village, between to storage huts and the fence. He calmed marginally when he saw that Lincoln was at Octavia’s side, keeping a careful eye on the third tier of their party who was sitting at their feet, her blond head in her hands.

  1. He frowned at the girl. “ _Chit_ _eintheing-_ _ait kom em?”_



“The wine has hit her,” Octavia answered with a frown, clearly chiding him for speaking in their native language in the presence of a guest who would not be able to understand.

 (2) He could care less if the _peetch_ could understand him or not. _“Heda tag-in yu.”_

Octavia frowned, casting concerned eyes over the girl.

(3) “ _Hos of,_ ” Bellamy ordered, annoyed that she would even hesitate when called by the Commander. “ _Ai raun n gada.”_

Octavia cast dubious eyes over him but went to crouch by the girls side, placing a comforting hand on her back. “The Commander is calling me, I must go. I will bring you back something to eat, then you will know what real food tastes like, eh?”

The girl looked up with a wane smile, “sounds great.”

O’ patted her shoulder and stood. “I will be back.”

(4) Bellamy caught her arm as she made to move past him. _“Ai nt yu hod klin kom em.”_

Octavia cast furious eyes over him. “You have no say over me, Bellamy. I am grown,” she hissed quietly as she tried to jerk away.

(5)He refused to release his grip. “ _Mo sis, mo goch-klin. Ai do-eint nt yu raun_ _ashkova foto_ _._ ”

Using his hold on her and leverage Octavia twisted, arching him up and over her shoulder to the ground. It was techbook perfect and for anyone else he would have been prepared and ready to counter it. As it was he just laid there on the ground as she help his arm at an awkward angle.

(6) “ _Yu drop-of vout-in, bro_ ,” she growled over him him quietly, her anger overcoming her good manners in regards to her english. “ _Ai huk-op mo rein, ba ai kep mo uf_.” With a disgusted huff, she threw his arm away from her and stormed off.

Casually, Lincoln walked over and offered Bellamy a hand. He accepted the help up.

 _(7) “An’yu-eint chich-op bida briyon ona em?”_ Bellamy growled dusting himself off, annoyed, but oddly prideful, over his sister tossing him.

_(8) “En eno op bilaik yu? Ai bilaik fig raun ai sak-ai taim da.”_

_(9) “An’em-eint ai-op da plan feisripa?”_ He glared at the star girl with hate filled eyes. She simply raised an eyebrow from where she was sitting, leaning up against the corner of one of the hut’s walls.

(10)“ _Ai do-eint nami_ ,” Lincoln looked over the girl, too.  _“Em chichplei strik em taim honon n bleirona skaifay. Emo kom-au lukot.”_

Bellamy winced. Growing up O’ didn’t have friends. They were outsiders to the wood clan for all that Octavia had been born here in this very village, and outsiders were distrustd. It didn’t help that their mother, Aurora Blake, had kept to herself.

Now, near two decades later, both Blake siblings were powerful warriors and prominent figures in their communities but still had no prominent friends. Bellamy might be able to name two, if pressed. One now that he became the other's guard. Octavia could name only Lincoln.

Bellamy sighed. He recognised one of his flaws in her, that of complete loyalty. If O’ considered her a friend, there was no help for it, she would not turn from her

 _(11)“Octavia kepa,_ ” Bellamy ordered harshly, pinching the bridge of his nose. _“Ai raun em set-daun auda feisripa.”_ He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his head shot up to meet Lincoln’s icy glare. He quieted his tone, ashamed that he would belittle this man by ordering him. “ _Wigod-op ai, ai drop-of vout-in chon ai chich-op.”_

(12) Lincoln, who knew the stress he was under with all of these enemies lose in his territory, still growled, _“Ai-raun yur teisa aftaim, ai hofli fleim-op.”_

Bellamy nodded tightly. Lincoln would forgive much but not a question of Octavia’s safety, even if it came only from a place of concern after such a near miss. It only compiled his anger.

With a tight nod himself, Lincoln turned and followed the path his consort had taken.  

“I think you made him angry.”

Bellamy looked over his shoulder to she he had the whole attention of the girl. He grunted turning his back on her one more time. He promised Octavia he would keep watch on the girl, he said nothing about keeping her entertained.

She persisted. “He cares about her a lot. You shouldn’t tease him.”

“Why do we not go back to your people,” he offered grouchily.

“No,” she yawned not bothering to cover her mouth with her hand.

“They are talking about the alliance.”

She shrugged, setting more comfortably against the wooden wall letting her eyes close, “I’m sure they’ll be talking for hours more.”

How could she be so calm at a time like this? She and a dozen of her people were quite literally at the village’s mercy, where any wrong step could mean her people’s complete annihilation. And here she was dozing. In front of a man who had two nights prior held a sword to her throat and screamed insults. What was her game?

“You want this alliance,” he questioned, stepping closer, intrigued besides himself. “Why?”

She tilted her head, blue eyes opening so she could look up at him, “because we need it. We’ve been living so long in space we don’t know what to do down here anymore. We have theories and knowledge passed down from generations of stored knowledge but we have no practical understanding."

“And you need us to supply that ‘practical understanding’ in return for some of your ‘stored knowledge’?” he ventured a guess.

“Pretty much,” she answered, standing on a yawn to dust off the seat of her pants. “Without food, we die. Without knowing how to properly shore up for winter, we die. We can do everything technically right and still die.”

“So, we should just not help you and take the knowledge when you are dead,” he theorized conversationally.

“You could,” she smiled mischievously. Bellamy blinked. “But then you would be in the same boat as us. Basic knowledge but no understanding on how to use it.”

He jerked his gaze away from her lips, annoyed with himself. “It can not be that hard. Point the weapon and shoot.”

“Yeah, point and shoot. Easy.” She shook her head, as if she could not believe how stupid he was. Spying something over his shoulder, she frowned. Casting an appraising look over him before looking back over his shoulder and calling out, “hey, Jamison?”

Bellamy felt a frown pinch his face as he turned to see who she had called. It was the pup who had passed them twice in the last ten minutes. A member of the sky-guard if his clothes were any indication; no doubt following orders to keep watch over the Chancellor's daughter.

The boy stopped, turning at his name. “Miss Griffin?” He questioned, eyeing Bellamy as hand tightening on the weapon strapped over his chest, though he did not raise it. Smart, Bellamy would have torn him apart if he had tired.

She walked over to him a kind smile playing on her mouth. “I was wondering if you knew any new information? Have my mom and the _ged_ \-- Grounder leader sat down to talk?”

The boy nodded. “I think so. Councilman Kane and Officer Carwig are with her. They are all on a large wooden platform on the other side of the camp.”

“And everyone else?” she questioned.

Jamison cast another glance at Bellamy, but continued, “the Chancellor wanted everyone else to move about camp making a good impression.”

“That's good.”

Jamison grimaced. “The last time I saw Justin he was gambling with a group of Grounders.”

“Great,” she sighed, rubbing her temples. As if just hit with inspiration she looked up with pitiful eyes and begged, “would you be willing to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t mess things up too badly?”

Bellamy rolled his eyes at the infatuated glaze that fell over the boy at her plea, the boy's eyes locked on her pouty lips.

“Yeah, sure, of course. I mean,” Jamison shook his head as if to clear it, shooting Bellamy’s direction a concerned look before he lowered his voice. “Will you be okay here?”

“Of course,” she patted his chest affectionately, and Bellamy saw him puff it out in pride.

What Bellamy also saw that the boy missed was the little slip of a girl carefully remove the smaller weapon attached to the gaurds belt in a sheath. So smooth that when she sent him away, he moved off not even knowing he was now unarmed.

Bellamy cast the girl an appraising look as she turned back to him, storing that bit of information away.

“This is a gun. A nine millimeter glock semi-automatic pistol to be exact,” she explained holding it up, casually pointing out its features. “Slide,” she ran her finger along the top half of the gun keeping it pointed slightly down and away from anyone. “This whole area is known as the frame,” the bottom half of the gun was out lined. She held it in a loose grip to show him the next part. “The grip,” the portion that at in her hand. “Trigger,” she pointed out a small piece hanging down from the frame just to the front of the grip. She tapped the nose of the gun, “barrel.”

She did something quickly and a rectangle fell out of the grip. She caught it deftly and showed it to him. “Clip. And this,” with a slight flick of her thumb she pulled a small metal pellet out, slipping the clip into the waistband of her pants she held up the pellet between her fingers, “is the part that hurts you. The bullet.”

“So small,” he frowned thinking how each one of the little pellets could kill one of his people. She has several in that ‘clip’. And each sky guard he had seen had had at least one of these guns on their person.

“It’s usually the small things that hurt you; you rarely see them coming.” With some one handed finagling, she slid the bullet back into its place and slammed the rectangle home.

Sharply she turned, checking the area over quickly, and shot three times in quick succession down the alley way where she had been sitting before. All three hit and bit into the trunk of the tree that was a living component of the wall.

The constant drone of the village dropped. In the silence all turned to the sound of the threat. Swords were drawn then and an undercurrent of threatening voices wove through the crowed.

Calmly, Clarke turned and offered Bellamy the gun grip first. There was a challenge in her eyes, a dare that the warrior in him had to meet. So he stepped forward and accepted the gun. Taking up a stance similar to hers, he pointed the gun down the alley at the same tree and pulled the trigger waiting for the bark of the weapon.

Nothing happened.

He tried again. Nothing.

She stepped into his line of sight, slowly coming up beside him. He cast her a look she did not return as she reach and pressed something on the side of the gun just above his fingers. She then wrapped her hand around his, pressing his finger into the trigger.

The reverberation along with the echo of thunder through his palm would have had him dropping the gun if her hand had not been holding his tight around it. Gently she slid the gun from his slack grip and conspicuously pressed the now visible button. Then she just stood there, staring at him.

He was so unused to the feeling that it took him a minute to name it; fear. It was difficult to find out that your enemy had a weapon that could wipe out hundreds of you with little effort. It was even more difficult to learn that you did not even have the understanding to counter them with one in hand.

He met her eyes and, seeing the question in them, nodded. Yes, he would help her with this. Help her gain the support needed in the talks of peace in exchange for knowledge they held.

At least until they learned all they needed. Then they would eliminate this too dangerous enemy before they got it into their head to eliminate them.

* * *

 

_Translations:_

_Peetch_ (bitch)

(1) “ _Chit_ _eintheing-_ _ait kom em?”_ (What not-right with her/ What’s wrong with her?)

_(2) “Heda tag-in yu.” (The Commander is calling you / The Commander wants you.)_

_(3) “Hos of_. _Ai raun n gada.” ”_ (Go. _I stand watch on girl / I’ll watch her.)_

 _(4)_ _“Ai nt yu hod klin kom em.”_ (I want you to stay away from her)

 _(5)_ “ _Mo sis, mo goch-klien. Ai do no nt yu raun_ _ashkova foto_ _. (_ My sister, my (/to avenge/)responsibility. I don’t want you near that blond witch.)

 _(6)_ “Yu drop-of vout-in, bro. Ai huk-op mo rein, ba ai kep mo uf.” (You forget, brother. I may have been given my rank but I have kept it by my own power.)

 _(7) “An’yu-eint chich-op bida briyon ona em?”  (_ “Can’t you talk some reason into her?”)

 _(8) “En eno op bilaik yu? Ai bilaik fig raun ai sak-ai taim da.” (_ “And end up like you? I’d like to think I’m smarter then that.”)

 _(9) “An’em-eint ai-op da plan feisripa?” (_ “Can’t she see that woman is dangerous?”)

 _(10) “Ai do-eint nami. “Em chichplei strik em taim honon n bleirona skaifay. Emo kom au lukot.” (_ “I don’t know. She’s talked a little of her time as a capture in the iron star. They became friends.”)

 _(11) “Octavia kepa._ Ai raun em set-daun auda feisripa. Wigod-op ai, ai drop-of vout-in chon ai chich-op.” _(_ “Keep an eye on Octavia. See that she stays out of danger.Forgive me, I forgot to whom I spoke. Having all these people invading my territory is making me tense.”

 _(12) “Ai-raun yur teisa aftaim, ai hofli fleim-op.” (_ “See that you mind your tongue in the future or I may take offence.”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah. Bellarke. What did you think? Did you like it? What about the hot key method, did it work? Yay or nay. 
> 
> Also, I was reading over some of my other stories during my down time (*cough cough* shameless plug) and was seeing that they don't really have a lot of comments, or any in some cases. My personal favorites are 'Sink or Swim' and 'Ice in the Veins' (these both have comments that I adore). If you guys would be up to checking them out, that be really cool #0.0#
> 
> Thank you for all of your guy's support and I'll talk to you soon :)


	31. Sides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone. Sorry this one took so long to get up.  
> nzfangirl01, Whos Hungry, suku, 09Tiff86, fangirlFiona, DracoTerrae, TheBashfulPoet, olioliwoo, OverlyInvestedFangirl, Kkckat3, lettucebfrank, Btshoe, Rita, Sam, Skaikru_nat.
> 
> To Lemi and Meowface who left comments for the last chapter and also read and left comments on one of my older stories. Thank you sooo muck :)

“ _Ban we yo mo trie!”_

Clarke blinked, breaking eye contact with the _heda’s_ man at the bark of Octavia’s voice. It was only as the mass of people scrambled to get out of the way did Clarke realise she had been surrounded and that more the one held a naked blade in their hand.

A second of idiocracy born of fear had her clenching her hand tighter around the gun. Her brain, slowed somewhat by the toxic blend of adrenalin and too strong wine, was quick to serve before her just how bad an idea it was to put forth another sign of aggression. Instead she took a deep breath, hoping the increase of oxygen would help clear out the fog that still lingered along the edges of her mind.

Octavia shoved through the crowed. Her warrior face fully back on as her eyes scanned the area for what had turned the group bloodthirsty. They locked on Clarke and the gun she still held down by her side. Octavia raised a dark-winged brow. Clarke winced, looking down.

For Hubble’s sake, how could she be so stupid? She’d cautioned everyone else against rash actions and her she was stealing a gun and shooting it in the very heart of the enemy's territory. What part of any of that made it seem like a good idea?

It was that trice cursed, condescending smirk of the man’s. She shot a glare at it out of the corner of her eye. It made her want to slap it off his arrogant face. Her exact thought process had been, ‘can’t be that openly hostile,’ and as soon has she had seen Cody Jamison, one of their ark guards, that thought had shifted to, ‘let’s teach him a lesson’ instead.

To the small, mean-spirited, part of herself the look of paralyzing fear in the arrogant prick’s eyes almost made it worth the shit-storm she probably just unleashed.

Octavia glanced between the two of them and rolled her eyes.

“Put your weapons away,” she ordered the crowed. There was a rush of movement at knifes and swords were returned to sheathes. Several, the majority of them older warriors, sneered at her, keeping their blades in hand.

Slow, like a wolf sensing a challenge but having no true fear of the upstarts, Octavia positioned herself in front of the small grouping completely turning her back on both Clarke and Bellamy. “Mebi yu do-eint sen-in, ai chichnes, ‘fou daun yur bleiro’.”

“Redcrest, stop acting like a yearling. Either challenge her and loose or stand down.” Indra entered the area, the crowed having parted silently for her and the _heda._

The man cast one more snarling glare at the girl before sheathing his sword, his companions doing the same. With a nod in the Chief's direction they melted back into the crowed.

Clarke’s mother pushed through the throng, rushing to her daughter's side.

“What happened? Are you alright?” she demanded checking her daughter over as she glared at the young man beside her, not so subtly angling her body between them and herding Clarke back to where their people had gathered.

“I’m fine, mom. I was just being st--”

Bellamy stepped forward. “Your daughter was just giving me a first hand look at what kind of technolodge your people have at their disposal.” He turned to Lexa bowing with a fist over his heart, “I am sorry, _Heda,_ if our exhibition interrupted you.”

“Not at all.” Lexa turned eyes to Clarke, getstring her forward, “come, show me this technology you have.”

Hesitantly, Clarke walked up to the woman carefully holding out the gun as everyone around them tensed.

The _heda_ took the weapon looking it over; running her fingers over the clean lines and feeling the weight in her hands. When she twisted the weapon to look into the barrel Clarke quickly snatched the nose and jerked it to the ground.

The whole crowed made a surge forward. Swords were drawn again. The big man that was the _heda’_ s shadow reached forward to jerk her back to safety, away from the crazed outsider.

Lexa deftly knocked his grab away, standing firm against being moved. Lexa’s eyes bored into Clarke making her truly nervous. “Explain.”

“The first rule of using a gun,” Clarke swallowed thickly trying to moisten her suddenly dry throat, “is always asume it is loaded. Never point it at anything you don’t intend to kill you.”

Lexa held her stare a moment longer before nodding, releasing the weapon into Clarke's care. “A good rule. I trust you were not aiming for my third?”

Clarke’s jaw dropped. “N-no! I may have acted rashly but… It was just--” Clarke tried to stumble out an explanation that didn’t make her, and by extension her people, seem petty.

Bellamy stepped forward bowing, “it was my doing, _Heda._ I was being ignorant and she was showing me my error. For that I am grateful to her.”

Clarke could feel her jaw drop again.

“I see,” Lexa’s eyes flickered between the two, the wheels in her mind turning. “We are done here, let us all return to the fire to continue our talk. The food grows cold.” She turned and the crowd parted for her again. Her meer look had everyone returning their weapons to theith sheaths as she walked past.

Gusted eyed the girl as well, concerned over what his _heda_ was planning. Determent to see that no harm came back to bite her he began making plans of his own as he turned and followed her.

Bellamy fell into step behind.

“Clarke what were you thinking?” her mother hissed trying to pull her around and get her to look in her face like she was six years old again.

Clarke jerked out of her mother's hold turning to fully face her. She wasn’t a child afraid to take ownership of her mistakes unlike some. “I wasn’t thinking this time. It won't happen again.”

Abby stepped back startled, her mind warring with the little girl she had raised and the woman standing in front of her.

Clarke turned making to follow the _heda_ and her group. Marcus stepped in her path, his hand held out. Clarke set the gun in it as she passed, barely sparing him half a glance.

Octavia fell into step beside her, “you really weren’t trying to shoot my brother?”

“Your brother?” Clarke questioned absently allowing the tension of the last few minutes leak out of her. Not gone, just far enough away for her to take a much needed breath.

The warrior woman gestured to the man marching ahead of them at the Heda’s side. “Bellamy.”

Clarke stumbled. “Your related?!”

Octavia gave her a look much more in line with that of an eighteen year old girl. “That is usually what ‘brother’ means, yes.”

“Its just … I …” Clarke stuttered before vehemently protested, “no, I wasn’t trying to shoot your brother.”

Octavia shrugged. “Don’t feel bad. I want to knock him over the head with something heavy all the time. It is that condescending tone of his.”

“I really wasn’t trying to shoot him.” Clarke lowered her voice, “I was trying to teach him. To show him that my people are not some weak prey easily killed off. That if we are hit, we will hit back with ten times the force.”

“And did it work?” Octavia asked just as quietly the air of the conversation turning more serious.

“I-I don’t know. I think so? He made me believe he is willing to help my cause.” Octavia’s troubled look made her even more nervous. “What is it?”

“Be ... cautious of my brother,” Octavia said carefully.

Clarke frowned, take the girls comment to heart, “okay.”

“It’s just, he’s very protective,” Octavia jumped in to clarify. “Of _Heda_ , the clan, of me. And he sees you, all your people but you especially, as a danger. He’s not one to lay all his coins on the table, either.”

“So I shouldn’t trust him.”

“That is not true either--” Octavia was interrupted when the Chieftess barked her name. “I have to go. Let uss try not to stir the pot too much more tonight. Wait until after the alliance to show them how reckless you sky people are.” She tossed a smile over her shoulder as she marched up the platform stairs to stand behind Indra. The black woman’s eyes raked Clarke with distaste before cast a warning glance at her second.

Clarke sighed at the show of quiet hostility. Seeing the Callie and Mrs. Green were already seated on the deck with curious expressions Clarke thought it would be a good idea to let them in on what had just happened. But before she was able to gain the stairs Abby grabbed her arm.

“I and the others will do all the talking. You and Mr. Smalls are to keep quiet and out of trouble for the remainder of our stay,” the Chancellor ordered quietly, her voice hard, “do I make myself clear?” Clarke felt her blood boil but mindful of the eyes on them kept silent. “Good.”

Abby released her arm and made her way up the steps. Marcus, having been right behind her mother, nodded at Clarke to precede him as a guard drug a sullen Justin up the stairs followed closely by Jamison. She saw the rest of the guards moving through the crowded towards them.

So we’re closing ranks, Clarke thought to herself with a mental shake of the head as she took a seat in the back. Justin was pressed into the bench next to her and she could see the beginnings of black eye darkening his cheek bone.

“What happened to you?” she whispered as she turned his face to get a better look.

“You should see the other guy,” he said with a smirk, winking at her. Then wincing when the eye muscles protested.

She rolled her eyes as she released his face to shrugged off her backpack. “We didn’t come here to fight them.”

“I know that. But sometimes people just want to fight and you can either roll over and walk away. Or you can show them what you’re made of. I decided to to the latter." He shrugged goodnaturedly, "got my ass handed to me pretty good but still.”

Clarke really couldn’t fault him as it was the exact thing she had done. With much stronger repercussions then a black eye if things had gone wrong. She dug in her bag and pulled out a tub of anti-swelling cream. When she went to put it on he jerked his head back.

“I want a bruise to show the ladies when we get back to camp. It will make the whole story better,” he protested. A bit too loudly. Abby turned in her seat to glare at them.

“You’ll still have a bruise when we get back to camp,” Clarke hissed when Abby turned back around. “This will just make sure you don’t look like a cyclops when you’re trying to woo those poor women.”

He quietly allowed her to smear the clear gel around his eye and the bridge of his nose. Once that was done, with the promise that nothing else needed medicine, Clarke sat back to think thing over paying only half attention to what was being said around her as it seemed they were still in opening dialog.

She was fairly certain Octavia was on her side and in favor for an alliance. She knew the Chancellor would be all-for what ever helped the Ark even though Clarke believed her mom wasn’t really for the alliance specifically. Marcus seemed on board but in the end he would follow Abby.

A plate of food was passed back to her, the ceramic dishware much nicer than anything they had been able to make thus far. And the food was much more palatable. No wonder the _geda_ they had had groaned so much over the rations when they were use to this type of fare.

The Chieftess Indra didn’t like them but Clarke wasn’t sure if it was personal or not, the woman seemed to hold everyone in an almost equal manner of destain. And if the look the hulking Gustus had given her earlier was any indication, the one that said he would gladly wipe every one of them off the face of the planet, he was not a big fan of theirs either. Taking a bite of something fall-off-the-bone tender and mouthwatering, she place Bellamy in the same box she placed her mother, for an alliance as long as it benefited his people.

The _heda_ Lexa was an enigma. She was cool, calm and collected at all times. But her eyes, her eyes reminded Clarke of the training images of a big cat stalking prey. Focused and sure, calculating every nuance so that they can bring it down swiftly and claim their prizes. Clarke sincerely hoped she viewed their alliance as a prize, for it not; they were already dead.

* * *

 

“ _Ban we yo mo trie!” (_ Remove you all from my path / Get out of my way)

“Mebi yu do-eint sen-in, ai chichnes, ‘fou daun yur bleiro’.” (Maybe you do not hear, I said ‘lay down your blades / Maybe you misheard me, I said ‘put your weapons away’.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spoilers(?)* so after the arranged marriage I have don't have any back-log out-lines written. The first part of this story was about 85% written out (more like 20% with all the stuff I added in, but you know, the bones were there.) For the next half I have maybe three few-hundred word scenes worked out. I don't know where they go, I don't know how or if we get to them. What this means are updates are going to be A LOT longer getting out.  
> I do plan of finishing this, so please bear with me.  
> Thanks a lot, Jay


	32. Unruly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Eva, PeachyCream, and myxsen101 for your comments.  
> We've hit over 20,000 hits!!!!

“I’m sorry for the disturbances my people have caused,” Abby apologized to the group as she cast a disapproving eye to where Clarke and Justin sat before turning her attention to the grounders and getting back to business. “Where were we?”

Lexa stabbed a hunk of meat with her knife and brought it to her lips, “we were just about to discuss the return of the men you have in your Iron Star.”

“I believe I already informed you that those men will remain with us until we come to an understanding.” Abby casually took a sip of her wine.

“We will not leave our people as your prisoners,” Indra’s gravelly voice broke in, her direct stare hard. Several of the Ark guards shifted uneasily.

“And I can not,” Abby asserted, “let them go until I have a guarantee there will be no retaliations for any … misunderstandings that have occurred over these last several weeks.”

“So you not only want an alliance but also a guarantee of cooperation,” Lexa sat forward, her eyes boring into the Chancellor's, “what are you willing to give up to achieve those things, Star Queen?”

Marcus shot Abby a cautioning look at the Grounder’s ominous tone.

“Your men and our technology, as we have said,” Abby reiterated. 

“We’ll need more then that if a lasting peace is truly what you are after.” A feral smile danced around her lips as the  _ Heda  _ straightened, her decision long since made and the trap just about to close around her prey. “What we need is a union.”

Gustus head snapped down to his leader, disbelief clouding his eyes. Bellamy frowned believing the honor the  _ Heda _ was bestowing on these outsiders was much more than they deserved. Indra looked fit to kill; fists clenching in her lap and nostrils flaring. Octavia raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the newest fold in this drama.

Everyone from the Ark side of the fire saw the reactions of the  _ heda _ ’s people and were immediately onguard and intrigued by the offer. 

“What do you mean by ‘union’,” Abby asked.

“A coming together of your people and ours, and in connection  _ Geda _ as a whole. It is not a formal invitation into the  Coalition ,” Lexa cautioned, “however, by one of yours binding themselves to a  _ Trikru _ warrior, any who stand in the way of your joining will also stand against us.”

“So, a political marriage,” Marcus clarified.

“Yes, a marriage,” Lexa gave a regal nod in his direction. “The tying together of nations through blood.”

“Blood?” Abby all but snarled, thinking of what these barbarians would do to the man or woman of Ark put under their rule.

“Yes,” Lexa frowned, trying to understand the hostility at the idea. “Children are the expected outcome of these types of marriages. They tie the clans together making the bonds just that much stronger. Kin slaying is one of the greatest dishonors.”

Abby’s jaw dropped, her anger all but evaporating, “I… see.”  She turned to Marcus to catch his reaction. 

He was nodding, thinking through the idea himself. “We will need to talk this out among our council, of course. When will you need our decision?”

The  _ Heda _ ’s brows drew together again, “now. I have been away from the Capital too long as it is. If we are to begin making preparations, the longer you wait the less I can do for you.” 

Abby was already shaking her head, “that’s too soon. The Council will need to vote whether or not to accept your proposal. We’ll also need to decide who will participate in this union. That will take a week, if not more.”

“You don’t have a week,” Lexa challenged. “We will have your answer now or we ride for the capital at dawn.”

“A decision will not be made until the council has decided that this is the path we wish to take.” Abby refused to let herself be backed into a corner by this woman.

“I volunteer.”

Every head turned to lock on Clarke. She felt a shard of ice race down her spine as all the strong personalities turned from each other and focused on her. She swallowed, wiping a bit of grease from her lip and setting her place aside. 

She faced the  _ Heda _ . “There will be back lash from a lot of the Ark over this decision. Will your warrior be able to handle that?”

Lexa a raised a brow, the Chancellor's pup was doing something interesting once again. “That won't be an issue. By agreeing to this union, you are agreeing to make your place within  _ Trikru. _ Can you accept this?”

Lexa watched the girl swallow, coming to understand just what she was deciding, but her eyes never wavered. “Yes.”

“No!” Abby barked.

“Mother-”

“I said ‘no’, Clarke,” Abby interrupted, “end of discussion.”

“If you would just-” Clarke tried again

Abby ignored her completely, turning to Marcus. “Take Clarke outside the gates. We will be joining you shortly.” The last was said with thinly veiled anger as she glared at the  _ Heda. _

Marcus stood coming to stand behind Clarke who looked with open mouth shock at her mother’s back, indignant bubbling in her gut. Abby refused to turn and acknowledge it. 

“Come on, Clarke,” Marcus said quietly, laying a kind hand on her shoulder.

She knocked it off. Standing she shot a loathed filled look at her mother before storming from the dais.

“Excuse us,” Marcus nodded to the group before following his charge.

Lexa flickered green cat eyes over Abby. “You deny her. Why?”

“The council,” the Chancellor lectured, “will be the ones to decide who, if anyone, will join this union, not children.”

“You stated it would take weeks and she has cut that time to nothing. Her efforts should be applauded.”

Abby did not like feeling as if she was being scolded by the Grounder that was little more than a child herself. “As I have said, the council will be the ones to decide.”

“Any who join will be seen as Trikru. No harm will befall them.”

“And we can we trust your word how?” Abby demanded, a frown pinching her face.

“The same way we trust yours regarding to the men you keep.”

The two leaders eyes met and held, resolved understanding of what was ahead if this union fell through.

Abby stood, signalling the rest of her people to follow. “Once a decision is reached we will be in touch.”

“Our patience runs thin, chancellor, be cautious before you waste it needlessly.”

The group turned and left without acknowledging the thinly veiled threat.

Lexa turned to Indra once they were out of sight, “have a messenger go check periodically for their reply. Lincoln was able to get one to them before, I would send him.”

Indra stood, furry rolling off her in waves. “It would be wise of  _ Heda  _ to discuss the roles of trikru people with their Chief before using them in her schemes,” she spat looking down her wide nose at the woman before marching off Octavia following closely behind.

Lexa’s body stiffened at the set down few would have the guts to deliver. Pushing aside her personal feelings she ordered Bellamy to see that the horses would be ready for the morning. With a fist over his heart he went to do her bidding.

“So we are returning to Polis?” Gustas asked.

Lexa sighed, the mantle of her position slipping from her shoulders for the moment as she settled against the back of her chair. Her eyes roamed the colors of the sky made by the setting sun. “I can not leave Nia to her own devices much longer. With or without the guarantee of these sky people, I must return.”

“The other clans will push for war with these outsiders.”

“Yes. I will hold them off though. As long as there of a chance of them joining us, I can wait them out.”

“And if they nay say us?” Gustus questioned.

“Then their iron star will be a pretty, new ruen for the Trikru to scavenge.”

“Why not just destroy them now?”

“Because then we lose most of what we could’ve gained.”

“Is that wise, my heda?”

Almost lazily her eyes turned to where he stood beside her. “Are you questioning my judgment, Gustus?”

“Never, my heda,” he bowed with his fist over his heart. “My only purpose is to see you safe. Please, forgive me my worry.”

* * *

 

“Why does she treat me like a child when I’m the one who got us here?” Clarke vented stomping back and forth outside of TonDc.

“You are her daughter, Clarke. All she wants to do is protect you.” Marcus stood leaning a shoulder up against the gate, two  _ trikru _ warriors subtly keeping guard on them from inside the walls. “She loves you.”

“If this is her idea of ‘love’,” Clarke scoffed still fuming, “I’d rather she hate me. At least then we’d be on the same page for once.”

“Keep your voice down!” Marcus hissed grabbing her shoulder and towing her farther away from the eaves droppers. “I know you are upset right now but don’t say things you don’t mean.”

She jerked away turning on him. “Oh, I don’t think I could be any more serious. She’s the reason my father is dead and why I was locked up for seven months for no reason!”

“Jake Griffin didn’t leave her a choice,” Marcus said his tone low and authoritative. “He was about to commit treason. It killed Abby to do what she did, but her first priority is to do what is best for the ark.”

“No,” Clarke correct, “what she did was what was best for the council. The Ark should have been told.”

Marcus shook his head, disengaging, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Clarke got in his face. “On top of my father, there were eighty-one floatings due to inhaler and oxygen thief. Seventy-six of these defendants claimed they was for the use of extremely ill children. A hundred and three deaths attributed to suffocation and heart failure from  hypoxemia . And over eight  _ hundred  _ cases of neurological disorders due to oxygen deprivation. I’ve read the reports, Kane. These are the numbers that you my mother and all the council are solely responsible for by not telling anyone about what was happening.”

He was silent for a long time before clearing his voice to speak. “Eight hundred was not in the expected projections.”

“And that makes it okay?” Clarke retorted.

“Of course it doesn’t, Clarke. It just makes the grief more manageable at the time. 

“Don’t try and bullshit me with your empty platitudes,” she turned away from him disgusted.

Marcus swallowed whatever he’d been about to say when he saw he saw the others file out through the gate. out behind her. Justin walked over to Clarke, handing over her backpack that she had forgotten. She nodded her thanks.

Abby march through the gates behind everyone else, her face set. Marcus furrowed his brows, concerned, ‘ _ you okay?’ _

Abby flicked her fingers in a negating fashion, ‘ _ we’ll talk later.’ _ To the others, she ordered, “we’re leaving.”

After the tension fueled talks they had just witnessed with the grounders, and the sullen silence coming from Clarke, no one made a comment about the setting sun or that they were a several hour walk from camp and they were exhausted. They simply moved out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys thought. I felt like we needing my angsty!Clarke, hope it worked out well :)


	33. In Silents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nzfangirl01, olioliwoo, Bellarke, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, suku, CanYouUnzipMe, fangirlFiona, moonlight_dreamer, HolyGhostlaidscript, Wright, 09Tiff86, OverlyInvestedFangirl, Makdawg, lilin, Sarcasticbitch10

It was after midnight when they made the Ark dirty and completely wiped out. Breaking through the tree line Cally flashed the signal to the guards on the gate, three fast flickers of the flashlight followed by two long, so that they weren’t accidentally shot by their comrades.

“I hope I don’t need to tell any of you that what you’ve seen and heard today is confidential. The council will meet tomorrow to discuss what our next steps will be regarding the Grounders. Until then keep everything to yourselves.

“Here we go again,” Clarke scoffed shaking her head, swaying a bit on her feet.

Abby’s eyes locked on her daughter, “is there something you would like to say, Clarke?”

“Yeah. I’m sick of all the lies and threats and excuses not to let our people know what is going on. They have a right to be apart of this decision that will affect them.”

“The Council will let everyone know in due time. We just need time to discuss among ourself so we can provide a united front with a single goal when we do present this to the populace so that is doesn’t cause them undue panic. I need to know you will give us the courtesy of that time by keeping this to yourself.”

“Why? So you can lock me up now if I’m not willing to comply? Do it,” Clarke growled, “I’m starting to miss my home of six months.”

“I’m sure we’re all just tired.” Marcus broke in, stepped forward. Playing peacemaker before mother and daughter could make an even bigger scene. “Clarke understands the seriousness of the situation. I’m sure she will make the right decision to wait for the council’s ruling.”

“Oh, fuck off, Marcus,” Clarke spat.

“Clarke Elizabeth Griffen, you will apologies--” Abby began to scold but Marcus laid a calming hand on her arm.

“No, its fine,” he soothed, talking loud enough for their wide eyed audience to hear. “Like I said, we’re all tired. Lets not take to heart what is said after the day we had. It would be best if we all seek our bed.”

Hearing the order under the measured tones the group quickly began to thin, each going in the direction of their housing. Clarke leveled a disgusted look at the Chancellor and the Councilman before turning and staggering away.

Quiet once again settled over the Ark, the near complete silence almost disquieting after the years of constant hum of machinery keeping them in orbit, keeping them alive. A fault in the rhythm on fht ship usually meant some key bit of technology had quit and panic ensued as people scrambled to fix it. Silence on board the Ark usually meant death.

Abby looked up at the stars and solemnly wondered if she would ever feel quite at home here on the ground.

“Marcus, what am I going to do?”

He stepped up beside her, his eyes going to the sky as well. “If only I had the wisdom to answer that question.”

* * *

 

Clarke spent the grueling walk from the front gate to her room viciously compiling a message to send as a camp wide bulletin vividly detailing everything that had happened during the meeting. However, by the time she stumbled through her door she realized she was too tired to do anything, let alone craft the essay then hack her way through the several dozen firewalls in the tech pad system needed to send the campus wide message.

And her feet hurt.

Not bothering to turn on the light before she collapsed on her bed she let her backpack slip off her should to fall to the ground. Peeling off her boots, she let out a pleasure filled moan when her abused sole touched the frigid metal floor. She shucked out of her jacket and tossed it to the end of her bed relaxing into the semi-softness of the two inch mattress. Clarke sighed as her body went boneless in comfort.

She was beginning to drift off, her mind quiet for a change, when her stomach gave a painful twist that jolted her back into consciousness. Her first immediate though was that the food they had been given at the meeting was poisoned. She quickly brushed that aside. The food had been served from communal plates and eaten by all. It had also been hours ago, so if it was poison the effects would have been felt much earlier.

Clarke layed there thinking back over what she’d eaten that would cause her stomach irritation. Half a leftover bar during the hick in, the sweet wine and couple of bites at TonDc. She was drawing a blank. Maybe the wine? But, like the food, that was hours ago. Then it dawned on her, she was drawing a blank because all she’d eaten that day was those few things and her stomach was protesting. Loudly.

With a whine she rolled onto her side, petulantly digging in her backpack for the one of the nut-i bars she had packed. It wasn’t there. Frustrated she sat up dumping the back upside down on the bed and shaking everything loose. Her tech pad fell out along with an extra pair of socks, a dozen loose specimen vials, her empty water container, and a portable medkit.

Clarke let out a frustrated groan when she remembered she had given it to Yoren, a last minute sub-in to the guards that hadn’t had the time to stop off and get his rations for the day. At eleven that morning it had been a good idea. Right now, over twelve hours and all the shit she’s been through later, she was cranky enough to be angry over it.

Jerkily she shoved everything back in her backpack and was almost blinded when the tech pad turned on in the dark room. For Hubble’s sake, did she forget to power the thing down?

Yep, 12% with several tabs open and running. Great. She turned the brightness down to the lowest setting before shifting through the open programs.

A geo-tracker that mapped the path they had taken to and from TonDC. The returning line was a little bit more meandering hinting that in more than one part of the journey they had become lost as she had suspected. It they haddn’t had Dr. Green, who had roamed the forest for more hours than any other gather or guard, they would still probably be stumbling around in circles until dawn.

With a roll of her eyes she saved the map to her downloads before exiting out of the page.

The ark bulletin. Three different pages related to Medical including a lab report for a patient that had died early in the week. Blood poisoning, as she had suspected, coupled with low white blood cells and an iron deficiency that if she had had the reports sooner she may have been able to rectify and save the man’s life.

Her stomic gave another annoyed jab at her insides informing her in no uncertain terms that food was to be a the top of her priorities list.

With a deep sigh she moved the report to the Medical archives before exiting out off all the taps. Buried beneath all the pages, the voice capturing software was still recording. Fifteen hours of uninterrupted recording. Per-fucked.  

With another full bodied sigh and a tiny, flailing, tantrum she shoved protesting toes back into her boots and stood. The last thing she needed this night was to step on a jagged piece of metal or a forgotten shard of glass as she walked the three dozen yards to Medical to grab a nut-i bar from the bin.

She grabbed her ear buds from the bedside table and fitted them in her ears. If she was going to be awake any way she might as well clear some of the unnecessary recordings clogging up her data space.   

As she shuffled down the hallway she deleted the recording by fifteen minute increments. Anything more than that and it prompted her to delete the whole thing. Too tired to try and fiddle with the settings when she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to delete to begin with she did a mindless double tap and discard of the mudded muffles.

Clarke nearly jumped out of her skin when a scream rang in her ears followed closely by frantic voices asking if someone was okay. Realising it was the recording of the incident when Justin had tripped on a fallen branch and rolled down a bit of a hill to everyone’s worry.

The boy had been fine besides a few scrapes and a bruised elbow. Clarke made sure to turn the volume down a bit after that.

Moving silently to not interrupt any of the sleeping patients or techs Clarke made her way to the nut-i box the stored under the central table. The box box was almost empty, maybe two dozen bars left. But that wasn’t right, the next dispersal should have already come in. It was possible the other box had been delivered but they were just waiting to finish this one before opening it. She looked around but didn’t find it.

She rubbed her dry eyes and growled as her stomach grumbled again. Hands on her hips she glared at the box. She could just grab one and leave. Eat the bar in the comfort of of her own bed then go unconscious for whatever remained of the night. Leave the morning medtechs to deal with getting a new box.  
Clarke sighed. This seemed to be the night for sighs. Grumbling she swiped one of the remaining nut-i packs before lumbering her way across the ark,  deleting more sound increments as she angerly scarfed down the bar. She was making her way through what was once the cafeteria when she heard her own voice crystal clear, _‘I_ _volunteer_ _.’_

She froze in front of the galley doors, the secured, walled off area they were using as a food storage center where they kept the reams of Nut-i packs and whatever other things they had hunted and gathered, listening closely. It may be the sleep deprivation but Clarke was impressed with herself; there wasn’t a hint of the absolutely debilitating fear that had been swirling around in her gut in her voice. She sounded cool and collected and, not going to lie, kinda like a badass as she spoke to the _heda_.

This particular door had a keycode that maybe six people were supposed to know the combination for. Clarke had the override code for everything, the day she had said her first word, that no one knew she had. She punched in the numbers, 1-2-1-1-3-1 and stood back as the doors hissed open.

The rest of the downhill conversion filtered through her ear as she stepped into the room

The terrifyingly empty room. A hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred boxes of bars were piled up in the far corner. She did some swift calculations and came to that they only had enough food for another three weeks. Maybe a month if they cut the daily number given out again. That wasn’t enough.

 _‘Our patience runs thin, chancellor, be cautious before you waste it needlessly.’_ The _heda_ ’s threat scent ice shooting down Clarke’s spine. The Council knew they were running out of food, her mother _knew_ it, and still they were bent on playing these asinine one upman games with a people that could help them survive.

‘ _Why won't the Chancellor just let Clarke do this? She volunteered.’_ she heard Justin’s voice whisper over the static of cloth being rubbed over the mic.  

 _‘Would you let your son or daughter be married and taken away by these people?’_ This voice was a little harder to hear but she was almost positive it was Jamison.

_‘So, what, they’re going to force this on another person just so the princess can go free?’_

_‘Like the Chancellor said, the decision is up the the Council.’_

_‘Council, sm-ouncil, you know they’re just going to pick someone they don’t have to go up to bat for if they get hurt. It’s bullshit.’_

‘ _I’m sure that’s not true.’_

 _‘Yeah, sure, whatever man.’_ His voice grew louder, ‘ _hey, Clarke, I’ve got your pack.’_

Justin wasn’t wrong. The council would choose a person that had as little clought as they could manage. With so many dead, it wouldn’t be hard to find someone without family. Someone who few would care if something happened to them under the _geda’_ s watch. Or if something was to happen to them in retaliation for something the Ark did.

Clarke knew she couldn’t let that happened.

She grabbed a box of nut-i bars, dropping them off in the medward before making her way back to her room. Her thoughts were in a slow spiral as she stood with hands on hips in what was the middle of her life.

“I should pack,” her soft voice cracked the silence jolting her out of her own self pity. Shaking it off and pushing down her exhaustion, Clarke picked up her backpack and moved around the room shoving things in it that that she would need.

Change of clothes, medkit, portable solar charger, an external battery which she immediately plugged into the tablet, and anything else she might want or miss. She checked her boots against the pair she held in reserve and changed them when the laces were in better condition than the ones she wore.

Finally she stood back in the center of her room tying her jacked around her waist, the half filled backpack at her feet. The room didn’t really look all the diffrent but it felt different, sadder. As if something was screaming at her that this would be the last time she’d see it.

Clarke had no misunderstands what this role really was. She wasn’t just going to be married, she was going be a political prisoner. Her life or death depended on how well the two sides could work together. And she was doing it willingly because no one else would.

There was just one more thing she needed to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fangirlFiona you guessed how this would go, you little stinker. Thanks for your comments, I enjoyed our back an forth :)
> 
> Please, everyone, leave me a comment on what you liked or didn't like.  
> If you don't want to do that, you can tell me what your favorite scene has been so far (and why if you're feeling adventurous like that ;))  
> Thanks to all who keep reading.


	34. Cracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nzfangirl01, fangirlFiona, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, Bellarke, olioliwoo, 09Tiff86, OverlyInvestedFangirl, lettucebfrank, QueenFoxJazz 
> 
> This was suppose to be tacked onto the end of last weeks chapter but I wasn't able to get the wording how I wanted at the end. SO I cut it, reworked it a bit and made it its own chapter.

The partially ajar door mostly hide the slumped over guard as Clarke crept down central corridor of Lock Up. Once more angling for the door on the end completely ignoring the thee on her right, she silently entered, ghosting to the second cell on the left.

“Sindri, you awake?” she asked in hushed tones. When that elicited no response she knocked lightly on the bars sending them ringing softly. “I have something I need to tell you. Please get up.”

He groaned something unflattering in trigedasleng, before snarling quietly in english, “come back in sunlight.”

“I won't be here,” she informed the dark shape in the bed.

“Another one of your oh-so-perfect plans, Princess?” a voice broke the silence behind her.

Clarke gasped spinning around, spying the lengthy youth lounging against the front corner of his cell, where the bars met the separation walls. “Murphy?”

He lolled his head to the side to glare insolently at her. “Surprise.”

She rushed to him, grabbing the bars in her fists. Both in shock and awe that her mother had gone through with her threat. “How long have you been down here?”

“How long do you think?”

Clarke bit her lip at the burning scorn of his tone. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Like I believe that.” He gestured to the cramped space, “this is what you get being the good guy. A heaping pile of shit and a lock up sentence while everyone with a lick of power gets to walk free.” He snorted shaking his head, “I knew I was being stupid following you.”

“I’ll get you out of here,” Clarke promised.

He jerked to his feet, slamming his hands against the bars. “Stop lying to me!”

Clarke jumped back, legitimately frightened by the feral light in the boys eyes.

Peen snarled from the next cell over, “ _Yo_ , _jokfeis_ , some of us are trying to sleep.”

 _“Bak op soken yur nontu mami,_ ” Murphy barked shooting a glare in the direction of the offending voice. He flickered the glare to her, then, with a sneer, shuffled into the darkness of the back of his cell.

"Clarke,” Sindri spoke from behind her, “what is it you wanted?”

She make a quick swipe at her cheek swallowing thickly before turning to face the man. He now stood at the face of his cell studying her like a fox contemplating running after a hare.

Clarke pushed the unease brought by that image aside. “I’ve set something in motion that will benefit both of us. Tomorrow-”

“There is no ‘us’, star girl,” he interrupted.

It was one emotional barb too many after the night she had and Clarke lost it. She was done being the floor mat who people wiped their disgruntlements on.

“You know what, I’ve been working my ass off making sure you guys have food, water, and are not totally forgotten in this hell hole!” She ignored that there were other people there, ignored that they might be sleeping. “I’ve got nothing back but contempt and disregard not just from you but from my own people. So you will shut the fuck up, listen, and do exactly as I fucking tell you or I swear to whatever power you pray to I will leave you here to fucking rot!”

He blinked, caught off guard when the reckless bunny turned into a snarling wolf inches from his face. How had he never noticed that before? Smartly, he kept his mouth shut.

Clarke took a deep breath, trying to find her calm again but it had deserted her. Nonetheless she modulated her tone. “In the morning some guards are going to come down here, comply with what they say. Do not fight them. Do not make snarky ass comments. Just do as they fucking say and keep your head down. That goes for all of you,” she turned down to the other darken cells knowing they all were listening closely. She turned back to Sindri digging in her bag, “here.”

Carefully he accepted the foil wrapped bar. “Why are you giving us more food if we will be leaving tomorrow?”

“Because I doubt the guards will think to when they come,” Clarke said walking down the line tossing a pouch into each cell. “It’s a long walk and you guys haven’t had enough to eat as it is.”

She came to Murphy’s cell. Aiming for the darkest shadow in the back, she chucked the nut-i bar at him, hearing him grunt when it hit him.

“Asshole,” she hissed quietly. “I didn’t know.”

He made no effort to reply.

Biting her tongue to keep from saying more she stepped in front of Peen’s cell, head down as she dug in her backpack for the next bar.

She gasped, dropping her bag to claw at his fingers as his hand wrapped around her throat.

“Peen, _klir of gaga_!” Sindri roared.

Something hit the bars to her left hard enough to make them rattle.

“ _Yo,_ Peen. Put her down man,” Murphy, his voice frantic as he tried to talk the _geda_ warrior down.Clarke felt his hand swipe at her, trying to help, but was only barely able to brush her shoulder. “Come on kid, don’t be stupid.”

“You said she lied to you and now you’re here. She’s lying to us now, they’re going to come here and kill us.” The boy’s bony face was a snarl. “But I’m going to kill her first!”

He meant it, too. For an instant, Clarke was resigned. If this was all she had to look forward to it, death threats and violence, it would just be so much easier to quit now.

Strangely enough, as her vision began to darken, she thought of Kidda, the pregnant woman that had made it from the ark. She remembered the teary eyed joy in the soon-to-be mother’s face when Clarke had been the one to inform her that she was still carrying her baby, even after the turmoil and trauma that had claimed the lives of so many others. Rubbing and cradling the distinctly noticeable bump the woman had simply wept. Life had been unfair but for her, in that one instance, it had been merciful and she had been, and still was, profoundly grateful.

People like the monster in front of her were trying to make it so that Kidda never saw her baby. The thought made Clarke’s blood boil.

Ruthlessly shoving down the little voice that told her just to go to sleep, she reached through the bars and grabbed a fistful of Peen’s greasy hair. Jerking hard and quick, she slammed his face into the metal bats. While he was momentarily stunned she ripped the hand from around her throat and bit into it hard enough to draw blood.

Screeching, he wrenched away from her, stumbling back and falling to the ground. He held his injured hand to his chest, glaring with burning eyes at her.

She met the stare with a snarl of her own, spitting out a mouthful of his blood. If he wanted to fight, she had too much riding on her to lose.

“Hawkings, Clarke, are you okay?” Murphy asked. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?”

Clarke ignored his worried chatter locking eyes with the geda male. This wasn’t like the last time, when she had been too caught off guard to do anything but stand there locked in the predator's gaze. She was sick of that shit. If she was going to run through the woods, defy not only her mother but the whole council and live with a pack of these people, she for damn sure was not going to turn tail and run from this blood thirsty little bully.

Peen froze under the gaze of the predator staring of of the girl’s eyes, just now noticing what Sindri had noticed before. Head down, he picked himself up cradling his hand and slunk back to his bed.

“This is the kind of shit I’m talking about,” Clarke growled wiping the back of her hand along her mouth, cleaning up the spill of blood. Bending she picked up her backpack, very deliberately taking a bar and dropping it into Peen’s cell.

Turning she observe that the commotion had brought the other to the front of their cells. She addressed each and everyone of them, “if you want to get out of here, don’t pull another one of these stunts because it _will_ get you killed.”

With a final look down the line, she turned and walked out.

Her slow, measured steps got her as far as the second door in the adjoining corridor before her knees gave out and she collapsed to the ground. Her whole body was shivering and she wanted to vomit, the taste of blood cloying. She gagged but held it down, she couldn’t afford to lose her stomach right now.

Is this what she had to do, meet violence and threats with more of the same? Stare down another human like some kind of beast? Prove she was just as much of a monster as any of them to gain respect.

Being in a society the breed that kind of animosity would destroy her.

Could she do that? She forced her palms against her eyes when she felt the tears threaten. Could she find the person she needed to be to survive this? Would she recognise herself when she did? Did it matter if she didn’t?

She thought of Kidda again. When lined up against every life she’d save by doing this, by every belly she’d fill and every blade she'd stop, did something as meaningless as her principles matter at all? Did her own life?

Stiffly Clarke got to her feet, wavering slightly as a rush of vertigo hit her.

She calculated it must be a little after 1 o’clock in the morning. That meant she had a little over five and a half hours to get back to TonDC before Lexa and her men road back for their capital. Hawkings, it had taken longer to get there when they had guides showing them the way!

It was all too much. Everything was piling up against her. There was no way she’d make it in time. She’d be better off going back to her room, getting some sleep, and waiting for whatever the council decided to do. And when they inevitably made the wrong choice, none of it would be her fault because she’d be tucked away safe in her bed.

Stars it would be so much easier if she didn’t care.

* * *

 

_Translations:_

_Yo, jokfeis_ (hey, fuckface)

 _Bak op soken yur nontu mami (_ Go back to sucking your dad’s dick)

_klir of gaga (let go of the girl / let go of her)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it it.  
> I hope I didn't make it too extra or out of character for what I've been going with. I was kinda trying to go with this idea in my story "That Which We Are" that Clarke looks sweet and Innocent but she has something really scary inside. I'm not sure how well it translated here or in my other one.  
> Let me know?
> 
> ps. I've been re-watching this guy read one of my very favorite book series from when I was younger. He's supper invested and makes the story feel like reading it for the first time. If you're interested look him up.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4D50tAbB-Mo&list=PLk9jyDH3N-o7CHQ1qfoDsSm62nngXXS-b&index=1  
> He's read the two serious before this one(this one just happens to be my favorite because I found it first, the rest are very good too) and the one after. Have some time to kill please watch and tell me what you thought!!!


	35. Dare Frame Thy Fearful Symmetry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Alyra, moonlight_dreamer, olioliwoo, NoVacancyMind, 09Tiff86, OverlyInvestedFangirl, lettucebfrank, KuraMechell13, fangirlFiona, Meowface, escape4rmreality, suku,and Kiyomisa for your comments!!!
> 
> Did anyone watch that youtube link I posted to bottom of the last chapter?

The knock echoed through the room.

Lexa frowned, sitting loose limbed on the floor of her on-loan apartments. It was early even by geda standards, the sun just starting to share its light. People tended to leave her alone at this time believing her asleep or knew, if nothing else was pressing, that this was the time she gave herself to meditate.

“Enter,” she called wanting to know what was so important.

Caris stepped through the door and bowed. One of Lexa’s personal guards the girl had come to her three years ago from _Sangedakru_ after the Clan had joined the Coalition.

"Someone here to see you, _Heda_.” The girl’s face was carefully blank.The whole village have been given the information that she would be leaving in a few hours time. Maybe it was a clansman with a last minute request from their Commander before she departed.

Tucking away her sigh, Lexa nodded, “show them in.” The work of a leader was never done

Caris bowed and left, returning a moment later with another following her.

Lexa had not idea who she had been expecting, but the Star Queen’s kit had not been it. For one whose life depended on her always being on guard, seeing Clarke step through the door caught her flat footed. A feeling the commander found dangerously intriguing.  

Thinking on it further, Lexa could not fathom why she was so surprised, everything she had learned about the girl’s personality thus far pointed at this being a highly likely outcome of the recent events. Still, Lexa would not have expected her so soon.

“Clarke,” she greeted. She nodded to Caris, letting her know if was okay for her to leave. With a bow the guard did so, pulling the door shut behind her.

Lexa’s eyes roamed Clarke. Blonde hair was coming out of its braid in thick strands. Her face and clothes were much dirtier than when she had seen her earlier. A new rip at her knee, and the corresponding soil ground into the fabric told she had fallen at least once. Exhaustion hung around her like a cloak but she still stood tall and strong in front of the Commander. Lexa felt a spark of admiration for the girl. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Wordlessly, Clarke shucked one of the straps of her carry-all from her shoulder and shoved her hand inside.

Lexa tensed, gathering her body to readiness as she casually laid a hand on the sword by her side.

The girl pulled out a glass jar with a metallic, screw-top lid filled nearly to the brim with a clear liquid. She took a step forward, careful to give the warrior plenty of room as she had seen the muscular body tense, and held out the jar. “I told you I’d bring you some.”

Curious, Lexa drew her hand away from the blade, reaching out to accept the gift. “My thanks.”

“We call it ‘moonshine.’ One of our people make it but he doesn’t always get the levels right. I suggest using caution when drinking it.”

“Noted,” a grin tugged at the corners of Lexa’s lips as she set the jar down beside her. “Now, I am sure you did not travel the dark woods twice in one night just to delive compensation for _Faya Wanlida._ Why are you really here, Clarke of the Sky people? _”_ Lexa felt she already knew the reason but she need to hear it from the young girl before she broke old arrangements to began making way for the new.

Clarke took a deep breath, “I’m here as the representative for the Ark’s side of the proposed union.”

“Last we spoke your Chancellor said a council will need to reach a decision.” Lexa arched a brow, “are you their decision?”

“If I marry one of your people, the council will abide by the decision,” Clarke stated steadily.

“I see.” And she did. The girl hoped to once more force goodwill between their people by cementing this alliance before too many could nay say it. Lexa had used similar ploys herself on more than one occasion with mixed results. “But if they don’t? Are you willing to offer up your life as payment if your people betray this agreement?” she asked wanting to see how the woman reacted to the first signs of opposition.

Lexa was not surprised to learn she met it head on. “If my life is what it takes to give my people this chance, then yes.”

“Well said.” Like an adder striking at prey, the commander lunged across the distance, sword brought to rest against the pale white of the blond’s throat. “But words and actions are much different things. With death a breath away, are your words still true?”

The girl had flinched at the jarring movement but now held firm under the chill of the metal. She swallowed carefully meeting Lexa’s eyes with resolve before tipping her head ever so slightly to the side, offering no resistance. “Yes.”

Lexa gave her an appraising look and nodded, drawing her sword away and resheathing it. “Good. But let us not be too dramatic quit yet. At this time, you are better suited for my plans alive.”

“To marry your dog?” Clarke spat, fear having made her sharp tongued.

“Among other things,” Lexa hid a smile turning away. The girl was young still, there were things she needed to learn. Keeping her fear under check was already half conquered. Her anger would be the next challenge, one Lexa wondered if the fiery starchild could master.

She continued as she strapped on her crimson cloak of Command, “I also need you to draft a message to your mother, the Chancellor, demanding the release of my men and her presence her at TonDC.”

“Why do you need the Chancellor?” Clarke questioned warily.

“Her presence is necessary for the progression of the binding ceremony. A representative from your people must be there,” she informed slipping on leather gauntlets and deftly buckling them.

“You said a representative,” Clarke pointed out. “That doesn’t mean our Chancellor.

“Two stags, one arrow. A representative and a member of your family present.” She she saw the girl was going to balk again and ordered, “you will write for the Chancellor.”

Clarked looked away, her jaw mutinous. Lexa shook her head, that anger again. She began slipping small, thin knives into the little holders sewing into the gauntlets.

“If you have me, why must they release the men?”

“Because holding future relative hostage is in poor taste,” she said partially distracted as her mind raced through new scenarios, rearranging plans and setting back time tables. Checking the fit of the arm braces, she stepped into her boots.

“So instead you get a hostage and your people back and my people are left with nothing,” the girl scoffed.

“Enough,” Lexa barked, fed up with her disrespectful tone. She turned, letting a dagger flying from her hand to embed itself in the wall by Clarke’s head. “I could just kill you now,” she said in a chilling voice. “Raze your village to the ground and slaughter everyone you have ever known. Then your people will be left with truly nothing and I would not have you whining in my ear.”

After the words had left her mouth, Lexa pinched her lips together. Maybe this girl was not the only one in need of better control over her anger. However there was no use crying over the milk when the pail was already tipped. Instead she decided to use her slip to serve her purpose.

Clarke just stood there, mute. Maybe some fear wasn’t completely useless if it taught her to to have some caution in her dealings. A lot of _Geda_ would not be so lenient with an outside as Lexa herself had been. If she was to have any chance at Polis she would have to learn that and curb her tongue.

“What your marriage and the return of those men are getting your people is the personal backing of _Trekrew_ , as well as the _Heda’s_ , for you joining into the coalition.” Lexa looked the girl over again. Her lips were tight, she was not fully onboard with this idea. Lexa laid down her trump card. “When we reach Polis, I will also begin preparations to send back food and supplies, enough to see your people through the growing season if they ration it correctly.”

This caught the girl's attention and it was her turn to look the Commander over, trying to find a lie in the statement. Finally she nodded, “I will send a message to my mother.”

Lexa nodded in turn. Strolling to the door, she said, “I will send a guard for the note once I have prepare riders. Remain in these rooms until I return.”

After giving strict instructions to Caris about the note and that her guest is to be guarded, Lexa started down the silent hall.

The star-girl had no idea what she was getting herself into. If Lexa was a better person she might have cautioned her against trying for something so foolhardy. As it was Clarke fit in perfectly with Lexa’s own plans; strong enough not to be a complete leaf-in-the-wind and smart enough to adapt and keep herself alive. It was that last bit that could prove troublesome. The girl was not carelessness, per say, but there was a definite lack of regard for her own well being if what she did benefit the majority.

She was not a warrior, not with the little strength in her arms or body. She was, however, a fighter, with an agile mind and a reckless courage that would need to be kept in check. She would need someone strong enough to guard her when her presence was met with backlash. A mate that will be able to curb or control those more rash actions such as walking through the woods at night.

During the negotiations with the Star Queen, knowing where the talks were bound to lead, Lexa had begun to compile a list of names the could be compatible with the sky people. There were few people the Commander could trust with what she planned to do and fewer still she could count on protecting the key piece of these talks, Clarke, without trying to break the girl to their own will. Something, having only known the girl for a short while, would prove disastrous for everything involved. If Clarke’s goals had not lined up so perfectly with Lexa’s already established plans for _Geda’s_ future the negotiations would have fallen apart from the beginning.

The more Lexa thought on it, the more she realized she really only had one viable option. 

* * *

 After setting orders for horses and riders to travel to gather the chancellor and her men, she send a runner for her third to attend her in the war room. As she waited on the High Chair she contemplated just what to say to him.

He entered sooner than she expected, running hands through unruly wet hair as he tried to force it into some kind of order, “Lexa, you called for me?”

“The star girl is here again. She’s accepted the _Deimeika_ _Jus-Teina_ ,” she said without preamble.

“Well that was quick,” he yawned hugely, jaw cracking. “Their chancellor seemed adamantly against it. I thought it would never happen.”

“I want you to be her _dula houmon._ ” Lexa winced internally at the badly spoken edict.

That brought him up short. Shock took over his features as he stared at her, mouth agape, “no.”

She pinched her lips at that reply. “I did not make it a question.”

“She kidnapped my sister and threatened to kill her,” he growled through snarling teeth. She reasoned he still must be half asleep or he would have never dared to use that tone with her, even in private. “Do you honestly think I am the best choice to bind with her?”

“Yes,” she folded her hands in her lap, forcing calm over herself. She had known him to go off on those who displeased him, it had just never been directed at Lexa herself. She had just sprung this on him and he was, if out of line, justifiably upset.

“Will she even agree to this arrangement?” he demanded.

“Octavia is right,” Lexa said thinking over the main thing that swayed Clarke into writing the note was the promise of supplies. “They are desperate.”

“Then why are we treating with them at all?”

She locked eyes with him. “Because so are we. They will agree to this because they have to. I will agree to this because the alternative is a war that will only spark more violence. I will not allow that to happen.”

“Lexa, you can not seriously-”

She held up a hand to silence his tirade. It would do neither of them good for him to think he could talk her out of her decisions. “I am not asking as a friend, Bellamy. I am ordering this as your _Heda_. I want this.”

“And she will leave her people to surround herself by strangers and enemies?”

“She’s here now, alone,” Lexa pointed out. “She wants a peace between our people. She will do anything to achieve that, as we’ve seen.”

He bit his tongue, understanding he had gone to far. She was his friend yes, but that was second to the fact that he was hers to command. Swallowing his rage he bowed, his fist over his heart. “Yes, my _Heda._ ”

"I am doing this because I trust you," Lexa spoke plainly. "You know the importance she has in what I mean to do. And also, no matter what your personal feelings towards her, once she is under your protection I know you will do everything in your power to see her safe. This will not be an easy assignment."

He scoffed, rubbing his hands over his face. “How hard can it be to mind one little sky princess.”

* * *

Translations:

 _Deimeika_ _Jus-Teina_ (sun blood-entwined / duty marriage)”

 _dula houmon_ (duty husband)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the name of this chapter taken from 'The Tyger' by William Blake. Doesn't have much to do with the chapter, just trying to get some imagery down for different characters. 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought. I live for your guy's comments :)
> 
> p.s. if you guys could tell me what other tags I should add for this story, I would really appreciate it


	36. Husband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moonlight_dreamer, olioliwoo, NoVacancyMind, 09Tiff86, Anon, OverlyInvestedFangirl, Moka_Magamo, nzfangirl01, e.t bellarke, Whos Hungry, suku, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, SuzySioux, wizardlyplums, Btshoe, fangirlFiona, lettucebfrank, ukelaily, Kiyomisa
> 
> WOW! Just look at all of you. Please know I read and loved everyones comments. THANK YOU!!!
> 
> P.S. For those of who who have been waiting, let the Bellarke begin };-)

"I have found your suitor."  
  
Lexa's voice pulled Clarke from the light doze she had been fighting the last thirty minutes. Once the _heda_ had left and the adrenaline high that had kept Clarke going through the night receded, exhaustion dragged at her and she found herself sitting on a worn, plush couch tucked in the corner of the room.

With the commander back Clarke forced herself to her feet, hoping she'd be less likely to fall asleep if she were standing. Seeing that the heda was not alone Clarke nodded to her shadow.

"Bellamy,” she greeted with a nod, looking past the both of them. When she didn’t see anyone else, she turned to Lexa rubbing bleary eyes, “so, will I be able to meet this man before the ceremony or is that frowned upon in this situation?”

Lexa gestured to her third, “Bellamy.”

“Yes,” Clarke drew out the word, confused. Shifting her focus lightly she gave the man a more pointed greeting, “hello.”

He just stood there arms folded behind his back, as if he were restraining himself, glaring at her. In that steady stare Clarke finally found the similarities she had been subtly looking for between the supposed siblings. Their eye color was different, Octavia’s being a deep green and the man before her’s were dark enough to be black, but the same ‘fuck you’ was etched in their irises. They also had the same sharply bowed upper lip coupled with the full lower. Though they fit Octavia’s face better.

It was only after a grin stretched the _heda’_ s lips that Clarke realised she had spoken the thoughts aloud. To sleep deprived to care, she looked expectantly at Lexa to answer her original question.  

“Bellamy,” Lexa said, pointing and speaking slowly. “He will be the one you will be binding with today.”

That re-kick started Clarke’s adrenaline lull.  

The reason for the man standing before her took on a more menacing air. When they had spoken the last time, Clarke had gotten the distinct impression that he was counting down the seconds until her people wore out their usefulness and could be gotten rid of with little issue. Having him as a husband was not her ideal choice.

“Is that really the best idea?” she blurted.

Lexa raised a brow. “Why would it not be?”

“Well, I did drug his sister. Not to mention pulled a gun on him.” If anything his gaze turned even frostier from the reminder. “Would someone not so … close to the situation, be better?”

The Commander made a waving motion, as if she swept the inconsequential reasons under a metaphorical rug. “He is the best option. Binding with him not only closely ties you with _Trekrew_ but also has the added benefit of giving my stamp of approval on the union.”  

“If you only needed a hostage,” Clarke questioned looking over the man who would be solely loyal to his _heda,_ no matter if he was bound to Clarke or not _,_ “why wrap it in this guise of a marriage?”

“You will not be a hostage, Clarke.” At the girl’s dry look Lexa switched tactics. “It's not so much you being in our village, it is how you being in our village is understood by the other clans. You would be one of my people,” she gestured to Bellamy, “bound to one of my strongest warriors to guard and protect you.”

Clarke heard the conviction in the woman’s voice. She honestly believed what she was saying or she was a very good lier, but there was something else. Something small that hung under her mannerisms that only now Clarke realized had been there the whole time their people had been negotiating.

“You’re ... scared,” Clarke said slowly testing the idea against what Octavia had told her and what she had picked up from the interactions she had with this woman. “You’re scared of what the other clans will do if war breaks out between us.”

Lexa hackles rose, “we are offering you peace and you insult us.”

“I don’t mean it as an insult,” Clarke quickly jumped in at the realization she may have just made a tactical error by speaking that thought aloud. “I’ve been trying to figure out why you are helping us. It’s not out of pity, or the kindness of your heart. It’s because you need us.”

“We do not need you,” Bellamy snarled, the first time he had spoken the entire interview.

Clarke’s eye flickered over the man. Even now, he had subtly place himself between Clarke and his _heda,_ ready to intercede if she in anyway made an aggressive move. “No, but you need our technology.”

“We have been doing fine without your guns-”

“I am not only talking about our guns, you war mongering idiot,” Clarke interrupted. The sunlight breaking though the window waking the headache that had been brewing for with piercing needles and she had no patience left for his snarky little comments. “We have databases full of information. Trillions of petabytes on anything you could wish to learn. Topographic maps, animal behavior studies, architect schematics, medical journals. All of that can, and will, prove useful to you and your people because you’re helping us.”

“Yes,” Lexa stepping in laying a hand on Bellamy’s chest and pushing him back slightly. “But we both know that that aid hinges on you being kept safe while in our care. That means binding you with someone that will protect you. For this I have chosen Bellamy, above all of my warriors, because I know he will do his duty to me, his clan, and to you.”

The silent warning that the aid the Ark need so that its people didn’t starve also rested on this deal was not lost on Clarke. This was all that she had wanted when starting down this hair brained path but still she hesitated.

Her intended was attractive. A bonus she hadn’t even taken into consideration when she had originally agreed to this. She would’ve said yes to a lot worse then what stood before her. In all honesty, under normal circumstances, Clarke wouldn’t have be against a good bang in the engine bay with a man like Bellamy. But she wouldn’t be able to walk away from this one after a one night stand. She would be his wife.

On board the Ark only married couples would be granted the right to have a child, a position she never really considered for herself growing up. Being sentenced to the skybox killed even the notion of offspring. Both because she expected to be floated on her eighteenth birthday and because re-admitted felons would never be considered for that privilege.

But here she was. Head first in an arrangement that’s end result was children. Her children. With him. That she would carry for nine months. All in the name of stopping a war.

Her entire life was taking a different twist than what she had envisioned. Logically she understood that when she agreed but the reality was all hitting her as she stood in front of the man that would be her husband. Her chest felt tight, her heart beating in her ears. Loud. Fast. Too fast. Everything was too fast. Had it really only been twelve hours since she had agreed to this? It felt like years. Walking through the trees every minute being stretched into months as Clarke envisioned everything that could go wrong. That she would be too late to meet with the _heda._ That she would be killed by a _geda_ warrior for trespassing. Or eaten by a roaming predator looking for a meal. Or fall and break her neck in the dark...

Vaguely she realised she was having a panic attack. But it wasn’t until Bellamy stepped forward and pressed her down onto the couch then forced her head between her knees that she began to be able to get control of herself. She concentrated on taking slow, even breaths as he rubbed small soothing circles on her back.

As soon as he was aware of what he was doing he stopped sitting back on his heels, frowning as if he was disgusted he had show the outsider any kindness. Clarke caught the look he shot his leader, a disbelieving sneer, ‘you want me to marry this?’

Disgruntled with herself, Clarke sat up, pulling a calm over her features to hid everything else. “I’m sorry about that. It’s,” she rubbed her forehead wanting to stop the sharp pounding, “its been a long night.”

“Are you still agreeing to this arrangement,” Lexa asked, tone hard. “Or are you bowing out?”

“No,” Clarke said quickly straightening her shoulders. “I am in agreement. As long as,” she eyed the man still crouched by her side, “as long as Bellamy is in agreement to this, as well.”

“Good," Lexa clapped her hands together. “Preparations for the ceremony must be made quickly for I intend to reach Polis before nightfall. Come, let us begin.”

“Excuse me, _heda_ , I was not asking you,” Clarke cast a pointed look at the woman who raised a brow and Clarke could almost hear the hissed command of ‘careful’. She ignored the warning turning to face Bellamy fully. Clarke would be the one married to this man, not the _heda_. With the disdain he had no trouble expressing she needed at least his verbal acceptance of the plan before she would feel even somewhat safe continuing forward. “Do you consent to being my husband?”

He sniffed. “It is what _moHeda_ demands.”

It was an acknowledgment, of shorts, but for some reason it felt as if he had slapped her with his complete disregard for her question. That it mattered not it he agreed, or even if Clarke herself did. It was what his leader wanted so that was what would happen.

Clarke fought hard to keep the crushing emotion off her face turning back the the _heda_. “I applaud the loyalty of your men. Let’s continue with your preparations.”

* * *

 

Translations:

 _heda_  (Commander)

 _moHeda_ (my Commander)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Now we are getting into the Bellarke side of things. Things are still going to be slow but were will be shifting things away from Politics a bit.
> 
> Questions, concerns, ideas, things that aren't making sense; please let me know. 
> 
> Anyone get a chance to check out Mark reads yet?  
> From my favorite serious in Tortall 'The Protector of the Small' by Tamora Pierce:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4D50tAbB-Mo&list=PLk9jyDH3N-o7CHQ1qfoDsSm62nngXXS-b


	37. Backbone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you escape4rmreality, NoVacancyMind, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, OverlyInvestedFangirl, moonlight_dreamer, nzfangirl01, Bellarke, Ladyrosvolio, fangirlFiona, Whos Hungry, olioliwoo, Kiyomisa, Tara Bontempo, Nicky, suku, 09Tiff86, Phili, LadyAbsolem for all the lovely comments!!!!
> 
> Sorry for the long wait! My mind have been jumping to scenes that can happen after the ceremony but when I try to write something leading up to it, it goes blank. I also took a great week long vacations out of state. It was awesome!
> 
> A lot more Trigedasleng in this chapter, you have been warned :)

Preparations apparently called for breakfast. Lexa had lead her from the from the room down long corridors, Bellamy following close behind where Clarke could feel his eyes boring holes in the back of her head. She, however, was beyond caring. He had agreed to the arrangements, same as her, and he could just get over it. As far as she was considered the only thing she needed to worried about now was keeping one foot in front of the other.

They entered a long, low building on the northernmost side of the village. Several dozen sleepy eyed _geda_ warriors sat at the tables with bench seating, nodding greetings as the _heda_ past. The whispering started as people recognised Clarke as part of the outsider’s party from the previous evening. Octavia and the Chieftess Indra were already seated in chairs at the table in the front of the long room.

“Clarke,” Octavia called in shock, jumping up from her seat to come around the table and envelope the girl in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

She hugged her friend back. “I’ve officially accepted your _heda_ ’s proposal from yesterday.” Octavia pulled from the embrace, eyes scanning the doorway. Clarke rested a hand on the girl's arm. “I’ve come alone.”

“You walked the woods at night by yourself?” Octavia glared at her through narrow eyes. “ _Branwoda,”_ she scolded quietly.

“I know,” Clarke said just as soft. “But I’ve told you about the council. If I didn’t-”

“If we may begin?” The Cheiftess’s voice boomed over the assembly bringing all attention to herself, which she had turned onto the two girls.

Octavia shot Clarke a sarcastic ‘uh-oh, we’re in trouble’ smile before going to sit beside her leader once more. Lexa had already taken the center seat, Bellamy the one on the opposite end from his sister, leaving the one between them open. Lexa gestured for Clarke to take it.

Clarke sat, very aware of the man studiously ignoring her at her side and all the eyes on her from the crowed. She refused to meet any of them, she had enough people try to glare her into submission today and she was sick of it. Instead she looked over the food spread out over the table.

Metal and clay containers had steam leaking from beneath their lids. Small honest-to-goodness-glass dishes had different colored pastes. Several woven baskets held a variety of fruit, what she believed to be a type of dark bread, and small-white oblong rocks.

Lexa took one of these rocks, knocked it against the edge of the small wooden bowl in front of her and dropped its slimy contents into the white mash she had scooped from one of the steaming containers. Taking a fork, she mixed the stuff together until it was no longer runny and the mash had taken on a slightly yellow hue.

Lexa saw Clarke watching fascinated. “Eat,” she encouraged taking a huge bit of the concoction.

Clarke reached for the basket of bread. It was a food she had only twice in her life and only on very, very special occasions; when her mother had been granted her seat on the Council when Clarke had been four and again when Thelonious Jaha had become Chancellor of the Ark when she was thirteen. When she saw her hands she froze.

They were filthy. Grim was packed beneath her nails. Dirt was ingrained to every line of her hands, both palms were skinned and raw. She had several smaller cuts up the length of her fingers. She quickly tucked them back into her lap, embarrassed despite herself.

“I’m not really that hungry,” Clarke informed the _heda_. “Is there some place I can wash up instead?”

“After.” Lexa soaked a rag from the water pitcher on the table and handed it to Clarke, “get the worst off for now and eat. We won’t have time for another hot meal until we reach Polis.”

Her eyes down, Clarke accepted the wet cloth and busied herself cleaning up her hands. Paying careful attention to the cuts and digging out the little rocks that had found their way under the skin of her palms. ‘I’ll need to treat these soon,’ she thought wincing at the imagined burn of peroxide.

“ _Chon mo-kru yu giv-op fotones,_ ” Indra’s voice was a soft trigedasleng rumble.

Clarke paused, only just able to hear the black woman’s voice over the din of dozens of people eating. She quickly resumed tending her cuts, keeping her head down, not fully understand the word but she could tell the chieftess was not happy.

“ _Ai don-nou giv eni-diyo nou ani giv,”_ Lexa’s replay was even softer, so cold it was almost flippant.

The chiftess’s hand fisted on the table. “ _Ai don Wocha mou tiam den yu don strechplei dis graun.”_

Out of the corner of her eye Clarke caught Lexa turning her head just enough to lock eyes with Indra. There was a tinse few seconds that Clarke was amazed none of the others seemed to be aware of before Indra backed down, staring straight ahead, face even more pinched than usual.

Lexa turned back to her meal, “Bellamy _es gada_ _dula houmon_.”

That Clarke understood fully. Judging by Octavia’s utensil clattering to the table, Clarke hadn’t been the only one listening in on the semi-private conversation. She cast a looked from under her lashes at the topic of discussion. Bellamy’s hands were fisted under the table, a small tick jumped in his jaw as he stared straight ahead.

Well this was off to a fantastic start, Clarke thought bitterly as she picked up a slice of bread. Just as it had been yesterday the food was delicious. She was debating having a scoop of the white mash that three of her table mates had served themselves when Lexa’s shadow, Gustus, walked into the hall.

The whole room went silent as the people sitting at on the benches looked between the big man and the head table. Maybe they had been paying more attention than Clarke gave them credit for. Then she realised there wasn’t any more chairs for the _heda_ ’s second their table.

Did seating denote power, Clarke wondered. The Ark Council sat at a round table, to symbolise that they were all equals, but there was still a distinct head. The same probably applied here. Did it mean something that she was seated above her husband-to-be and closer to both the head of the _geda_ and the clan leader?

She wasn’t given anymore time to contemplate the seating arrangement as Octavia jumped up, quickly shoveling down the rest of the food from her bowl. “I will see to _Heda_ ’s traveling party,” she informed the table in a voice loud enough to carry through the room. Gesturing to her seat, she offered it to Gustus.

Seeing this as her chance, Clarke pushed away from the table too, standing. “I’ll come with you. Maybe you can show me where I may bathe?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lexa said casting a look at Bellamy who also stood. “Bellamy will be your guide.”

“No,” she locked eyes with Lexa. Clarke was willing to submit to this arrangement but that did not mean every little facet of her life would be dictated by these people. “I would rather Octavia show me.”

“Octavia had other things she must attend to,” Lexa informed her, eyes unwavering. “Bellamy can be solely focused on making sure your presence is explained.”

“ _Yu prom mo-kru’s koma nd mo-gada uf sheid-klin yur pichu?”_

“ _Ai-raun ha yu chich-op mo--”_ Bellamy growled stepped forward, hand on his sword hilt. Lexa deftly laid a staying hand on his chest, immediately calming his ire.

“ _Ev kors nou,_ ” Lexa spoke softly, though Clarke could feel the ice coming from the words. “ _Jos nou gaf-ining teik-daun yur hou-gifa-in.”_

Clarke broke in before things got nasty...well nastier. “Thank you for your concern but I’m sure we’ll manage just fine.” Without waiting for permission or leave, something she had learned in dealing with her mother, she made to march around the table.

Bellamy made to snatch at her wrist, to stop her even before an direct order had been give. Clarke sidestepped the grab turning to face him squarely, eyes hard, and didn’t even try to hid the fire in her voice. “Don’t.”

The growled order seemed to bring him up short as he blinked down at her. He did not try to grab her again but he did step in front of her, blocking to the path to the door. “ _Mon Heda_ ordered me to be your … guide.”

“Does ‘no’ have a different meaning here then where I am from?” Clarke snapped up at him, hands on her hips, “because if so I would gladly translate for you.”  

He arched an eyebrow at her tantrum.

“The meaning is the same, _skaifaya-goufa_ ,” Indra’s deep voice spoke behind her. “And as _my_ guest, Octavia will show you to the _sok-hou_.”

Not knowing what to say to the gruff woman Clarke simply nodded. She she made to step around Bellamy, this time he didn’t stop her. His eyes did seem to track her every movement though.

They weren’t the only eyes Clarke relized as Octavia shuffled her out of the room as quickly as possible. Gustus stood watching her as well from across the room, open hostility hitting her in the face. And, just like a faucet being shut off, he buried it under a blank face and turned to claim his seat beside the _heda_ , the seat Clarke had been occupying.

As the cold morning air dried the sweat from her forehead Clarke knew he had done it on purpose, to shown her that she was not wanted here so that she would lose her nerve. Clarke rolled her eyes. As if she didn’t already know that. It did tell her something, that while Bellamy would willingly follow all of Lexa’s orders to the T, Gustus would find ways to work around them if something didn’t meet with is liking.Something to keep in mind for later.

Octavia was already striding away from her in a ground eating march.

“Sorry,” Clarke said half jogging to keep up with her. Octavia arched a brow in question. Clarke waved a hand in the direction of the breakfast house. “About putting you in the middle of that back there.”

Octavia shrugged, unconcerned, still walking fast, “don’t apologize for something you would not change. Rightly or wrongly you chose now to make your stand against _Heda_ . Only the outcome will tell you if you made the right decision. _No lan-op fleim-klin rien taim der hol yur hou.”_

“What?” Clarke asked confused by the seemingly random spouting of trigedasleng. She couldn’t have heard correctly. “‘No curse weeping when your house’?”

“No, it is, uh, ‘No’-- _lan-op?”_ Octavia tried to translate, _“_ good, use too. ‘No good cursing the rain when the ditch’-- not ditch, hole. ‘When the hole is in your roof.’ Its a _Geda_ saying. It means do not get mad over what is happening. Find a way to fix it and move on.”

“So _hou_ means both ‘house’ and ‘roof’?”

“I guess,” Octavia shrugged again. “I never really thought about it. It is more how you use it.”

“ _No lan-op, fleim-klin, rien taim, der hol yur hou,”_ Clarke sing-songed under her breath.

Octavia nodded, eyes focused on things around her. “I really do need to see to _Heda_ ’s traveling arrangements. It is going to be a while before I can take you to the baths.”

“That’s fine,” Clarke replied, eyes also dancing around the village. TonDC was smaller than the Ark, but people still bustled to and fro calling out greetings to each other and to Octavia. Older folks were sitting outside doorways, hands fiddling with one thing or another. Mothers and fathers jostled babies on hips as young children warred with sticks under their watchful eyes. The kids weren’t the only ones with weapons. As Clarke looked closer, everyone seemed to have a sword, knife, or club on their person or close at hand.

It was strange seeing that many weapons. On board the Ark, the Guards were the only ones allowed to have guns. Anyone else found having one, or carrying another tool that could be used as a weapon without the proper documentation, was instantly floated.

“It would have been faster if you went with Bellamy,” Octavia said.

“I feel more comfortable being with someone I already know.”

With a sigh, Octavia relented. “Just say close.”

* * *

 

Translations:

“ _Chon mo-kru yu giv-op fotones._ (Which of my people did you give to this wickedness / folly)

“ _Ai don-nou giv eni-diyo nou ani giv,” (I have given nothing not mine to give)_

“ _Ai don Wocha mou tiam den yu don strechplei dis graun.”_ (I have been Cheif for more time then you have been walking this earth)

“Bellamy _es gada_ _dula houmon.”_ (Bellamy is her duty husband.)

“ _Yu prom mo-kru’s koma nd mo-gada uf sheid klin yur pichu?_ (You question my men's honor? And my girl’s ability to protect your pet?)”

“ _Ai-raun ha yu chich-op mo--” (_ Watch how you speak of my--)

“ _Ev kors nou,”_ (Of course not)

“ _Jos nou gaf-ining teik-daun yur hou-gifa-in.” (_ just not wanting to overreach your house-care / hospitality.)”

 _skaifaya-goufa (_ starchild)

 _Sok-hou_ (soaking house)

 _No lan-op fleim-klin rien taim der hol yur hou. (_ No use cursing the rain when there is a hole in your roof.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment. They make my week :)


	38. It takes a Village

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you nzfangirl01, Ladyrosvolio, Phili, escape4rmreality, olioliwoo, Kiyomisa, fangirlFiona, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, suku, 09Tiff86, SuzySioux, OverlyInvestedFangirl.
> 
> *~*~**~Important   
> Okay so because a lot of you said you were having some trouble with the translations I tried something new. *italicized words* are suppose to be in trigedasleng. This is to show that Clarke has a very good grasp on the language. There will still be some purely trigedasleng words if I think Clarke wouldn't have been told hem before (and be cause I like using them.) So let me know how this works out for you all :)

Octavia was right, it did take a while but that time was eye opening. Everywhere they went people seemed to have a job and do it well. The first stop was at what Octavia said was called the  _ wan-hos _ , or stable, on the outskirts of the village. It was where TonDc kept and cared for the enormous, muscular, deer-like creatures called  _ wan-rona.  _ Clarke found herself both terrified and in awe of the gigantic monsters.

As they walked down the large central aisle one of the animals, a large reddish-brown colored beast with long black hair, arched its head out of its enclosure to nudge the warrior woman ruffly. Octavia stumble under the weight of the headbutt and retaliated with a smile by scratching the taunt cheek and offering something on a flat hand up to its colossal mouth.

Turning to Clarke, one hand still fondly rubbing down the thick neck, she offered, “you can come touch, if you like.”

Clarke shook her head vehemently, folding her hands behind her back to keep them as far away from that mouth as she could.

Several of the  _ geda _ working with and around the beasts chuckled at her pantomime. It wasn’t spiteful snickers, but good natured laughter. Clarke felt a spark of hope bloom in her chest as sent everyone a sheepish smile. A few even returned it before going back to their tasks. 

With a final pat, Octavia turned from the animal to call the attention of everyone. Everyone headed the call stopping what they were doing; stepping out of enclosures, setting down hooves they had been checking, or buckets of water and feed they had been carrying to give their full regard to their Second. 

She started spouting off instruction in trigedasleng, informing them that the  _ heda _ and her party would be leaving today and what would be needed from them to see that everything was ready. For the most part Clarke was able to follow along, or fill in what she missed with context clues. Most of it seemed to be technical jargon that she was going to need a vocabulary list on to actually point out and name objects but Clarke was proud of herself over it anyway. 

With a clap of her hands Octavia sent the workers back to their tasks and directed Clarke to proceace her out of the large building. 

A wide open flat area farther east of the stable was their next stop. Here countless people practiced at weapons. On the far south side of the field a line up of twenty people shot arrow after arrow at cubes of cut grass, aiming and hitting the black dot painted in its center that Clarke could just make out. In the central area, cleared of all grass and packed down with what was not doubt millions of footfalls, people sparred with each other. In groups or one-on-one. With swords, knives and, in some cases, bare fists. It was synchronized chaos. 

Octavia lead them around the dense body of people, keeping her body between Clarke and the fighting mass, to an older gentleman who seemed to be keeping a sharp eye on the fighters. Periodically he barked out insults in trigedasleng;  _ stop staring at your feet, stinking cowards, pay attention, it is only blood! _

“He seems nice,” Clarke whispered to Octavia when they were still a good distance away from the sour faced man. 

“He is Nicky,” Octavia informed, sounding different. Clarke looked up at her friend to see her entire demeanor had changed. Where she was nearly jovial when she gave instructions to the stable-people and they respectfully complied, she now looked like she would slit someone’s throat at the slightest provocation. “He was in line to be Second after the one before me died. Do nothing to draw his notice to you.”

Clarke nodded silently, not catching up when Octavia sped up a half step to keep herself in front.  

“ _ Luten _ Nicky,” Octavia recognised them man coming to stop at rights of him

_ “Sekn,”  _  the man sneered arms crossed, never taking his eyes of the warriors in front of him.

“ _ I need noma-tu horse warriors to come with me for noma-sevn-sintaim.” _

Clarke could feel the tension writhing between these two. They very clearly did not get along. Clarke was wondering if it they would draw weapons on each other when she noticed out of the corner of her eye a man go down with a cry of pain. Almost without conscious thought Clarke turned to go to the injured man, not knowing she stepped into the practice arena and between two clashing warriors until it was too late. 

She look up just in time to see the surprise on one of the warriors face, a boy maybe a year of two younger then her with distinct light brown eyes and freckles, as he swung his sword down. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as Clarke stared at the gleaming blade.

A tug on her wrist forced her to her knees as a second sword came into view, catching the first and turned it aside with enough force to make the kid stumble back. A second jerk pulled her to the left as her savior knocked the feet out from under the boy’s opponent, ruining the defensive parry they had been about to make that would have cut Clarke down her side.

Clarke didn’t even have a second to catch her breath before she was being wrenched to her feet to face Octavia’s anger. 

“ _ Kaina branwoda diyo ar yu!”  _ she shouted giving her a good shake, “ _ yu ca don wan-op _ !” Clarke was so disoriented that she was having trouble translating the words. Octavia must have noticed her confusion because she made a visibly to calm enough to switch back to english, only to bark through gritted teeth, “what were you thinking?”

“I- I’m sorry. It was just,” Clarke looked over her shoulder distracted, her mind trying to latch onto something it could do to hide the fear threatening to turn her legs to jelly. A small group had circled around the man that had originally caught Clarke’s attention. “I think he needs help.” 

Clarke tried to brush out of Octavia’s hold, but the woman was having not of that. She firmly turned the girl to look at her, eyes completely serious, “do you want to destroy the chance at peace before it has even begun?”

“Of course not,” Clarke said, more in control of herself.

“Then never walk between open blades again,” there was deadly warning in the tone. “I cannot protect you if you are stupid.”

“I understand,” Clarke said, knowing the words came from a place of caring. “I’m sorry.”

“Good.” Still miffed, she let go of her slamming her sword home in her shoulder sheath. “Now what happened? Somebody is hurt?”

“Yes,” again Clarke turned, pointing. “He was--”

“ _ Sekn _ Octavia,” the boy with freckles interrupted, bowing at the waist and staying there, spouting rapid trigedasleng. “ _ Please forgive me. I did not mean to attack you or the no-weapon-woman. I beg your apologies….”  _ he just kept going on.

“Malcolm,” Octavia tried to sooth, but the youth just kept going. He was absolutely mortified by his behavior and distraught that he almost hurt someone under  _ Trikru _ protection. Then that started a whole bout ‘that of course under Octavia’s watch nothing would have happened’ but it shamed him that he had even brought it into question. That was when the second opponent chimed in, the girl Octavia had swiped the legs out from under and dumped on her back, who also began begging for forgiveness. 

As they seemed nowhere near being finished with their apologies, and more and more people were gathering to see the spectacle, Clarke stepped away to see the extent of the man’s injuries. 

Cautiously she approached the group. Noticing that the man was still on the ground senseless she stepped in. “I’m a doctor. Is there anything I can do to help?”

All three turned to look at her.

“What is a ‘doctor’?” The girl asked her in carefully worded english. She stood to the side, out of the way of the two older men trying to revive their fallen comrade, sword in hand. Clarke would guess her age to be about fourteen with several braids in her black hair.

“It is the old world word for healer,” one of them men answered, not sparing Clarke a second glance, turning back to the downed man. He was older, the gray hairs in his pulled back bun putting him at around fifty. “Your help is not required, sky-girl.”

“ _ Ba taim em na sis-au, _ ” the black haired girl stared only to be silenced by the look the two men turned on her.

“Did I not just get over telling you to stay by my side?” Octavia said a thread of annoyance in her voice as she came up behind her. She place herself a half step in front of Clarke, acknowledging at the group. “What has happened to Ernest?”

“ _ Sekn _ ,” all three bowed their head respectfully.

“ _ Ens ai kripon _ ,” the girl stepped forward, sword still out. “ _ Ai granplei _ \--” 

Octavia raised a hand to halt the girl. “English please, while in front of our guest.”

“Yes, Second.” She took a second to translate everything in her head before starting again. “I was practicing what you showed my trainer group a thirty-time--”

“Month,” Octavia corrected.

“A month ago. But I hit him to hard with the, the…  _ ha du yu biyo pamel?  _ Back of the sword?” At Octavia’s nod, she continued. “He went down.”

“With your leave, we will take him to the healer,” the gray haired man asked, eyes flickering over Clarke then back.

Octavia nodded, “you have it. If he wakes before we depart, inform me.”

“Yes, Second.” The two men gathered the unconscious man slinging an arm over each of their shoulders so that he hung between them. With another bow of their heads they broke from the field.

Clarke watched them go, a mix of anger and sadness turning her stomach.

“Back to training!” Octavia pitched her voice to carry over the crowed, taking hold of Clarke’s arm to lead her from the arena. “Therisa, report to  _ Luten _ Nicky, he will reassign you,” she ordered the dark haired girl who sheathed her sword, bowed, and loped off. 

“I could have helped,” Clarke growled, as she tried to twist out of her her friend’s hold. She refused to have her feelings be hurt over the encounter with the men.

“Some people do not want help,” Octavia told the her, eyes focused on the path ahead, her hold not budging as she towed the struggling girl. “Sometimes trying to help makes things worse.”

“He could die!” Clarke gave up trying to get free, instead marching sullenly behind. “You shouldn’t move someone with a head injury until they’ve been check out; it can exacerbate the injury.”

“Then he will die,” Octavia said in her oh-so calm manner. “But his death will not be blamed on you and his friends can believe they did the best they could. You can not always win. Come, one more stop then we can go to the baths.”

“I still would have helped,” Clarke said in a small voice.

“I know.”

The final place Octavia dragged her to was back in the village proper. Clarke though they were going back to the dining hall but instead Octavia skirted the perimeter of the building and went in a different door that opened to a huge cooking area. The smells wafting through the air were amazing and it was so warm. Clarke sighed as the heat soaked into her cold skin.

People swarmed everywhere. Busily chopping vegetables while others were elbow deep in half barrels of soapy water scrubbing at pots and bowls that Clarke remembered seeing of the breakfast table. She watched as one man was butchering an entire deer. Bunches of drying vegetation hung from the low rafter beams. A group of women sat in a corner, a huge mound of brown lumps in front of them. They would picked one up, peel the outer skin off it, then toss it in a bucket at their side, so fast they were already on the next one before Clarke registered they were done with the first.  

There were a were several huge vats with a fire under each one that were inset on one wall, the wall that if Clarke understood correctly was shared with the dining hall. Like a well oiled machine people would dance around each other dumpning cut vegetables in a pot, meating bones in another. One whole caulden seemed like it was reserved for the peeled lumps.  

“Wait here,” Octavia ordered, finally deeming it safe to let Clarke go at the edge of a table, out of the way of the flow of traffic bustling around the room.

She stepped over to one of the woman peelers, Clarke could just make out what was being said over the rest of the ruckus. “ _ Randzi _ Denae, I need twelve packed meals for the  _ Heda’s  _ party.”

The woman looked up at, hands still deftly taking the skin off the vegetable. Wavy hair was pulled back from a lined face A white scar carved down from the edge of her eye to the tip of her chin. “ _ Getting a late start today, is she?”  _ Her eyes flickered past Octavia to land on Clarke. Even in the hot room a shiver ran down her spine. “ _ Is this the sky-girl our dear Bellamy is marrying with?” _

Octavia every so slightly shifted in front of the woman, blocking her direct line of sight from Clarke. “Yes.”

“ _ You can not keep things from cooks, my girl,”  _ the woman laughed, brushing a strand of sweat-damp hair out of her face with the back of the hand that held her knife. “ _ Be chil-au, I know she is yours as much as she will be his.” _ She gently pressed Octavia to the side with the flat of her knife. Octavia moved, reluctantly. Once more with a clear sight of Clarke the woman, Denae, crooked her finger at the girl.

Clarke hesitated, for some strange reason more scared of this woman then she was of the  _ heda  _ of the twelve clans. Casting an uncertain look to Octavia, who, with pinched lips, nodded consent. Waiting for a man with a haunch of deer to pass her, Clarke stepped out of her safe alcove between tables up next to Octavia. 

Faster than Clarke’s own fluttering heartbeat the woman lashed out and caught both her wrists. Octavia was a nano second behind, clasping her own hand down on Denae’s hold to gain control over the knife still in her hand.

The cook ignored the clan’s Second completely, dark eyes instead uncomfortably focused on Clarke. “You do not like my food?” she asked in crisp english.

“I-uh,” Clarke stutted as her mind shifted gears from ‘abject fear’ to ‘articulate words’, “I like it a lot.”

“Then why do you not eat? Half a slice of bread left on a plate and you leave.”

“My, uh, hands were dirty,” Clarke said because she had no idea what else to say. “I wanted to take a bath.”

Denae turned Clarke’s hands over noticing the angry cuts on her palms and the dirt she hadn’t been able to dig out from under her nails. “Artigas,” she raised her voice, ordering in trigedasleng, “ _ bring me a ful-tous and my meika-moka.”  _ She lowered it again, “ _ You may release me now,  _ Octavia. Your girl is safe.”

Octavia let the woman go, who in returned released Clarke. Picking up another one of the brown vegetables in front of her she went back to peeling. It was only as other movement picked up that Clarke released it had stopped previously. The rest of the women in the peeling circle turning back to their cutting and the clang of pots and pans behind returning. 

A minute later a boy scampered up offering Denae the two things she asked for. She gestured with her knife that he should give them to Clarke. He handed over a still steaming bread roll and a small ceramic jar. 

She pointed to the food, hard eyes locked on Clarke. “Eat.” 

Clarke quickly complied with the order, biting into the bun. Flavors exploded in her mouth, the bread was warm and flaky, there was some kind of meat mix in the goulash that was the molten center of the biscuit. 

Denae taking in her shocked face and grunted. “You are much too thin to be skipping meals.” She turned back to her task. “The other is for your hands after the bath.”

She tossed her last lump she was working on in her bucket and stood, hefting the load on one hip. “ _ The food will be ready for the Heda,”  _ she informed Octavia as she moved past, “y _ ou may leave now.” _

Octavia began corralling Clarke out of the kitchen, her eyes cutting a path through the masses. 

Clarke turning from her pushing to call out over her shoulder, mouth still partially full of food, “thank you!”

Denae turned, a bit of shock highlighting her face. With a small smile that made her look less harsh she nodded in acknowledgment of her thanks before turning back to her work as Octavia shoved her through the door. 

Once outside in the cool air Octavia took a long breath, letting it out on a gusty sigh. “You ready for that bath now?”

Clarke nodded dusting her hands from the last of the crumbs from the meal that left her fuller then she’d been in recent memory.

* * *

 

Translations:

_ Wan-hos (wind house / stable) _

_ Wan-rona (wind runner / horse) _

_ Luten _ (Lieutenant)

_ Sekn _ (Second, as in rank)

_ Noma-tu (number two / two) _

_ Noma-sevn-sintaim ( seven day time / week) _

_ Kaina branwoda diyo ar you (what kind of stupid thing are you) _

_ Yu ca don wan-op  _ (you could have died)

_ Ba taim em na sis-au, ( _ But if she can help)

_ Ens ai kripon _ ,  _ ai granplei  _ (It is my fault, I was practicing)

_ ha du yu biyo pamel ( _ How do you say pommel)

_ Randzi _ (skilled cook / head cook)

_ Chil-au ( _ calm)

_ meika-moka _ (hand mud)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment. They really help with motivation.


	39. Soak House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys found it easier with this new translation idea. 
> 
> Thank you nzfangirl01, suku, fangirlFiona, Ladyrosvolio, shipdarcylewiswitheverything, olioliwoo, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, Nicky, Bellarke, OverlyInvestedFangirl, Emma_Andrea for your comments.
> 
> Thank you StarKiss666 for the song recommendations, I have another story idea that Torches works great for it I ever get to finishing this one ;p
> 
> And knsinger1212, I'm soo glad to meet another Tortallian!!!!
> 
> WE HAVE OVER 25,000 HITS!!!! THANK YOU!!!!
> 
> *~**~*~  
> A trigger warning for mention of rape. There is nudity in this chapter.

The bath was its own small building situated next to where had tried to intimidate Bellamy with the gun the previous night.

“I had a few trainees come heat the water,” Octavia said holding the door open and following her in.

“Wow, this is nice,” Clarke said surveying the layout. Flat cut stones made up the floor sloping to a small hole set in the back wall and a wooden half barrel, big enough to fit a couple of people comfortable, with thick metal bands holding it together sat in the corner of the room. There was one window that was covered with some sort of thin opaque membrane that let in hazy light and the scent of damp stone permeated the air. “Looks kinda like an ancient Japanese bath house.”

“Japanese?” Octavia asked from behind her.

“It was an old world culture, the ones that started the eco--” she half turned to answer only to see Octavia had already slipped of her pants and was pulling the shirt over her head. Quickly she turned her back on the woman. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a bath,” she said.

“But you’re naked,” Clarke squeaked.

“Is that not how you bathe in your sky ship?”

“No, we do. It’s just,” she peeked over her shoulder again to see Octavia securing her hair to the top of her head, “we don’t do it with other people. Unless we’re, uh, intimate with them.”

“Here we bathe to get clean.” Clarke watched as Octavia padded over to two steaming buckets set against the back wal, bare except for the decorative black lines on her left arm and a crescent moon with some stars on her opposite hip. “Come on, I will scrub your back.”

“No, it’s fine,” Clarke said, forcing her eyes away from the way the other woman’s spine undulated with every step. Was it wrong that she found her future sister-in-law super attractive? It gave her some high hopes for what she was getting herself into with her soon-to-be husband. “I got it.”

“Suit yourself,” Octavia shrugged dipping her hand into the bucket and pulling out a sopping rag. There was a ceramic bowl on the window sill that she scrapped the cloth in rubbing it against itself until it created a lather. She looked over her shoulder at Clarke. “Are you not going to undress?”

Shyly Clarke slipped out of her own clothes, folding them and setting them on the bench next to Octavia’s. Coming up alongside Clarke watched Octavia as she ran the cloth over her arms and chest. “Shouldn’t we get in the water before we do that?”

Octavia shook her head as she bent to run the cloth down her legs, “first we rinse off the top dirt then we soak to get clean-clean. It saves the tub-water for others.”

Clarke took up a rag dipping it into the soap, it smelled like the leaves from pine trees. She paid careful attention to her injured hands. “So do we wash our hair in the buckets or can we do it while we soak?”

“I would not recommend it,” Octavia advised, picking up her bucket and slowly pouring its contents over her body, rinsing away the soap. “With the cold air it will take a long time to dry. It is not good to travel with wet hair.”

“What if I really wanted to?” With the plumbing being down in the Ark and soap being reserved for medical needs, everyone had been making do with unsatisfying sponge baths or frigid dips in the lake. Instead of dealing with the hassle, Clarke had taken to braiding her hair out of the way and trying to ignore the dirty oily feel of it until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Having the water already here, hot no less, the thought of being completely clean was almost too good to be true.

“I won't stop you, I was only giving advice,” Octavia laughed, setting down her bucket. “If you want to rinse your hair please do it in the buckets,” she said over her shoulder as she walked naked to the tub, stepping up the three risers and into the water.

“So what exactly does this whole ‘ceremony’ entail?” Clarke asked wetting her hair and scrubbing soap into it. The warm water felt great on her scalp as she raked her hands through the mass.

“You know, you are really good at jumping into the fire pit before you know the embers are cool.” Octavia had her head resting on the edge of the tub, her eyes closed.

“Hey, Ms. Takes-Strange-Pill-Before-I-Know-The-Plan.” Clarke’s glare was ruined as she had her eyes closed to prevent soap from getting in them. By Octavia’s laugh she knew she got the idea. Water sloshed as she moved closer.

“The ceremony is performed in front of the entire village.” Clarke dumped her bucket of water over her head as she listened to Octavia outline the events of the coming hours. How  Bellamy would kneel before her and either the _heda_ or _wocha_ would offer her a knife to...

“They want me to cut myself?” Clarke asked aghast wringing out her hair.

Octavia shrugged her shoulders, chin now resting on her hands that she had folded on the rim of the tub, as sweat beaded her brow. “It is a symbol. Someone’s blood must buy the peace.”

“That’s very morbid,” Clarke said stepping into the tub. She hissed with the hot water bit into her toes. There was a bench that wrapped all the way around the inside of the tub so that the water only came to shoulder height when sitting. Well, shoulder height on her, for Octavia the top swells of her breasts were visible above the water line. She groaned in pleasure when her body acclimated. “This feels wonderful. I could fall asleep.”

“None of that now,” Octavia said rousing herself from her own partial slumber and getting out of the bath. She stretched, arching her back before shaking out a large hank of cloth, running it down her body, drying up the monster still clinging to her skin. Clarke watched the play of muscles under that skin. Muscles earned by hard work and training.

Clarke looked away, thoughts of the training field with its dozens of warriors fighting flashing through her mind. They even had their children running around with wooden blades. Everyone was so strong in a world where anything less meant death. What would it mean to be bound to someone who lived in that world?

“Octavia,” Clarke asked bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, sinking into the water so her mouth just barely cleared the water line. “Does your culture have rape?”

The stillness had a certain weight to it.

“Yes,” Octavia said finally. “It does not happen often. We are mainly a race of warriors with sharp tempers and even sharper blades but it still does happen.”

Out of the corner of Clarke's eyes she watched as Octavia came closer crouching so she was at the same height as Clarke in the tub. She didn’t touch the naked girl but she did meet her eyes. “You have nothing to fear of my brother. He is loyal and strong and he takes care of those who are his to protect. If you tell him no, he will respect it.”

Clarke swallowed thickly, forcing the words out around her fear, “even when it is the agreement to have a child?”

“You are agreeing to a union with a chance of children,” Octavia spoke firmly. “That agreement does not transfer into other things without your consent. Do you understand?”

Clarke dunked her face into the water, nodding as she sent a rush of bubbles to the surface with her sigh.

* * *

 

Translations:

 _heda (_ Commander

 _wocha_ (Chief)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm getting a little bit burned out again.  
> Its almost been a years since I started writing this and I am no where near being done or even sorta done and it's kinda weighing on me. I did not mean to make it so long nor mentally prepare for what I have undertaken with this story. I hope to continue at least through to the ceremony but I don't know what I'm going to do after.  
> As I've been telling some of you I have some plot points for the next half but no real structure and the structure I want to aim for is soo far out of my writing ability its not even funny.  
> But we'll see where we go from here. Just wanted to give you all a heads up if I just go radio silent for a while. I will inform you if I do discontinue this story so have no fear of waiting in limbo for too long but that is not the case as of now.  
> Much love ~Jay
> 
> Please comment, they make me smile.


	40. Clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tlw13, olioliwoo, Ladyrosvolio, lelamarie, escape4rmreality, fangirlFiona, Kittymo, these_dreams_go_on, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, annad13, knsinger1212, Mich, suku, KuraMechell13, FoxyNerdTahaji, OverlyInvestedFangirl, CanYouUnzipMe, StarKiss666, SuzySioux, Sarcasticbitch10, Kiyomisa
> 
> Thank you all for being so kind and understanding. I really means a lot.

Clarke felt Octavia move way, her head still submerged in the hot water, not wanting to feel relieved but relieved anyway. Finally the need for air won out and she lifted her head, wiping water from her eyes.

Octavia was just removing her towel to dress when there was knock at the door. Both girls heads swivel to look at it. Octavia resecured the towel, looping it around her body and tucking the ends between her breasts, before taking up her sword. On silent feet she stalked over to the door, casting Clarke a warning look before jerking it open, weapon at the ready.

Lincoln stood on the opposite side holding a armful of clothes. “ _Thought you might want something clean._ ”

“ _Niron,”_ Octavia smiled tugging him in just far enough so she could close the door before stepping in close to kiss him sweetly. Both seem unconcerned that she had drawn a weapon on him, or that said sword was still between them.

Clarke sunk lower in the tub, uncomfortable with having another person able to see her naked. The movement caught Lincoln’s eye. Clarke slunked even lower at the burning disdain in the man’s face, using her arms to cover her breast under the water, feeling extremely vulnerable.

“ _Stop that,_ ” Octavia lightly smacked Lincoln on the arm breaking his predator's stare. She tooked the clothes from his arm and returned to the bench. “Clarke would you like a clean set of clothes? We are not of the same size but you can have some of mine.”

Clarke flinched when Lincoln turned his glare back on her. “No, thank you. I have a change of clothes. They’re in…” Clarke sighed remembering she had forgotten all of her stuff in the _heda’_ s room, “my back pack.”

“Where is it? I will have Lincoln go and get it for you.”

“No.” With that one word, growled, reply he turned and left, the door firmly shut behind him.

“ _That man,_ ” Octavia huffed under her breath, her movements agitated as she pulled on her clothes. Buckling on her sword she turned back to Clarke. “Where are your things? I will go and get them for you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can wear what I have, then go change into my clean stuff.”

Octavia held up a hand. “No. There is no use in getting clean then putting on dirty clothes.”

“Wasn’t that what you were originally going to do before Lincoln came?”

“That is not the point now. I have clean clothes, so you will have clean clothes.”

“I don’t want you to go through the hassle--” at Octavia’s glare, Clarke relented. “I left them in Lexa's room.”

Octavia nodded, gathering her soiled garments, and heading for the door. “I will be back shortly. Come, bar the door behind me.”

Dripping Clarke did what she was instructed. Once the door was secure she went over and wrapped a towel towel around herself. Using Octavia’s wet one to get as much water out of her hair as she could. She might regret the decision to wash her hair later but for now if felt fantastic to be clean. And to top it all off she was about to get some clean clothes. She did a tiny happy dance.

Stifling a yawn she sat on the bench. The pressure of wringing her hair had agitated her hands so she uncovered the little jar she had safely stowed in her folded clothes. It was small and plain looking but still of better craftsmanship than anything the Ark had been able to make thus far, perfectly symmetrical around with a snug fitting lit. Clarke pried off the lid looking inside.

It was filled with an opaque-gray, jelly like salve. She brought it to her nose and sniffed. It wasn’t terrible but it wasn’t quite pleasant either; a musty rotting smell that someone had tried to cover up with the scent of lavender. Knowing sometimes medicine just smelled bad, Clarke smeared a small dose on her fingers before rubbing it into her sore palms. It tingled slightly.

Her hands weren’t to happy to have her touching them so she quickly ministered to the other one before returning the lid and setting the jar aside. She’d need to find a way to return the medicine to the cook lady before she left the village.

Sitting back she rested her head against the wall waiting for the slave to soak into her skin and for Octavia to get back. At least the smell dissipated a bit, the more noxious order being covered up by the lavander.

The scent was soothing, calming. Clarke closed her eyes and just breathed in the smell as she remembered being young and helping her mom pick lavender stocks from the medical section of the flower beds in Farm Station.

That was the first time she meet Monty…. him tottered behind his own mother… helping to water the plants….

* * *

 

Clarke was jerked back to wakefulness by an incessant pounding on the door. Slightly disorientated she stumbled to open it for Octavia quickly. “I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep. I didn’t mean--” Clarke could have swallowed her tongue when she finally pulled the door open to see Bellamy standing there. “You’re not Octavia.”

“No.” He glanced down and she realised she was still only in a towel. As she fumbled to tug the fabric higher so her chest wasn’t completely on display he looked over his shoulder before stepping into her space, herding her back into the bath house.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to hide her nervousness, as he closed the door behind him. “Where’s Octavia?”

“ _Wocha_ wanted to see her. I got your stuff.” He held out the backpack. “You did not bring a gun with you?”

“You went through my stuff?” Clarke screeched, jerking all her worldly possessions away from him. “You had no right!”

Bellamy gave her a dry look. “I have every right, _hainofi._ Bounded we may be, you are still an outsider. I must make you safe to be around my people.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Clarke snorted, amused to think that she was the most dangerous thing in this village. Yeah right. “Thanks for the clothes, you can go now.”

Bellamy shook his head. “Octavia is away. You must be guarded.”

“Well you aren't saying in here. If you’re so worried I’ll go wreak havoc, you can wait by the door,” Clarke informed him, it being her turn to herd him through the door.

“It’s not like you have something I’ve never seen before,” he groused, but never the less made hesitation of following her wishes.

“I may get married on the first date, but I don’t put out.” For the love of stars, was she flirting?

He looked down at her, confused. “Are you… flirting?”

Clarke felt her entire face go red. “No,” she squeak, slamming the door in his face.

Well that was mature. Kicking herself for being so awkward she returned to the bench with her backpack to pull out her change of clothes.

Her hair was still damp but she folded it into a french braid just to keep it out of the way. If she was going to get married to a complete stranger against the wishes of her friends, family and ruling government for the sake of not starting a war, she was happy she’d at least get to be completely clean.

Not sure what to do with the towels she laid them out flat on the benches hoping they would sorta dry. She slipped into her jacked, stuffing her dirty clothes in the bag she slung it over her shoulder, picking up the little jar in her free hand.

Clarke paused with her hand on that door, taking a second to collect herself, before stepping out.

Bellamy was leaning up against the wall beside the door, waiting for her.

“Why did you offer yourself at the meeting yesterday?” he asked. Good, they weren’t going to bring up the weirdness of a few minutes before.

“I am the Chancellor's daughter.” She tucked the jar into her jacket pocket. “It is my duty to do this.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Your mother does not trust us. She would never send you when she could send another. Try again.”

She frowned, why did he care? _“I_ want this to work. Why should I have someone who doesn’t have my conviction, who would only be doing this because it was ordered of them?”

“Closer,” his eyes flickered over her face, reading her expression, “but not the whole of it. How about we go with a simpler question?” He gently tipped her chin to the side, “what happen here?”

For a second she had no idea what he was talking about, then it hit her. Peen. Bruises. Fear.

She shoved off his touch taking a step back, “nothing.”

He ignored her, taking a firmer hold on her shoulder to get a better look. “You did not have these the last time you were here and Octavia would not have allowed this to happen.  Who dared lay a hand on you?”

She snorted, fending off his hands again. “Like I said, no one. I fell.”

Bellamy traced the distinct marking of fingertips along her throat, “into someone’s hands?”

“Yes,” Clarke snapped, not comfortable with his concern, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Now stop touching me.”

Instantly he removed his hands, but the hard look did not leave his eyes. “If this ‘no one’ or anyone for that matter threatens you, tries to lay hands on you, you are to come to me. Do you understand.”

She huffed, turning away, “yeah.”

He stopped her with a light, two-finger touch to her shoulder, his voice a growl. “I know Lexa has explained this to you but let me as well so there is no misunderstanding. You are to be my _dula houmona_. It is my responsibility to protect you from anything that will cause you harm. If something threatens your safety, swear you will come to me.”

She swallowed thickly, ignoring the way her heart was beating faster, and nodded, “yes.”

He held her eyes, “swear it.”

Her lips tightened, not exactly liking his tone. “I swear.”

“Good,” he nodded, stepping back. “Come, _Heda_ wants you. Says your mother should be arriving soon.”

“So fast?” she asked, not without some surprise, falling into step beside him.

“Yes,” he looked down at her oddly before marching for the main building once more.

* * *

 

 _Niron (_ beloved)

_Hainofi (princess)_

_dula houmona (duty bride)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there, have some bellarke. Was it cute enough?
> 
> Update: After the Ceremony I will be taking a nice long break. I don't know how long it will be but in that time I'm hoping to get a strong idea for where I want to go from here. I am also wanting to edit this first part (combine chapters to make the narrative flow a little bit better(ie bringing the forty chapters down to like 8-10 chapters)
> 
> question: should I begin the 2nd part as its own separate posting under a new but similar title? Or keep everything here in one and just add the chapters as I go?


	41. Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nicky, fangirlFiona, CanYouUnzipMe, olioliwoo, Ladyrosvolio, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, RayanneJD, escape4rmreality, OverlyInvestedFangirl, Vialark, nzfangirl01, lettucebfrank, Kiyomisa, Hipposrule16, stargirl.  
> Thank you for all the kind words, suggestions and well wishes.

Bellamy heard the door to the bath house open. Killing the urge to shrink closer to the wall he held perfectly still, waiting and listening. The door closed. The tell-tell scrape of the door being barricaded. He frowned. What were they doing?

“Bellamy, you can stop skulking now.” Octavia called out.

He froze. The was no way she could possibly know he was there.

“I know you have been following us since we left the stables. You forget, big brother, I know all your tricks.” She sounded entirely too please with herself.

He stepped around the side of the building to find Octavia already staring where he emerged. He shot her a look few would not cower under. She raised an eyebrow, rolled her eyes and marched towards the Big House. Bellamy fell into step beside her.

The Big House was where the Chief and all top officials kept their rooms. A long corridor set in a loose U-shape with doors that branched off into individual rooms. The closer to one of the main entrances the room’s were denoted the status of the occupant. Chief Indra’s room was in the very center of the house, the most defensible place in the village. An given for Lexa personal use for here stay.

“ _Heda_ gave me the order to say with the girl,” he defended trying to save face, “I obeyed.”

Octavia snorted. “ _Heda_ also silently recanted that order. She knew Clarke would be safe with me.” Her eyes dared him to voice his true reason for keeping such close tabs on the two.

He stared resolutely ahead. “I do not trust her.”

She sighed as if disappointed. “And here I thought tossing you to the ground would be the end of this discussion.” She held up a fist, raising a finger, “I can take care of myself.” She lifted another, “Clarke is not a bad person.”

“She poisoned you!” he spat, following as she skipped up the front steps to the main door, outraged that his sister would defend the girl after everything that happened.

“You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I was there, Octavia," Bellamy grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to stop and look at him, cold anger vibrating through his body. "I saw you almost too drugged to stand. I watched as she bartered with your life! Do not dare say I do not know what I am talking about when she was willing to kill you to get her way.”

Octavia tore herself away from his grasp, slamming into her own room one door down from Chief's quarters. He followed to her door way as she storming to the salvaged dresser braced up against the fall wall. She lifted the lid of the box on top, its ornate scroll work naming it as Lincoln’s crafting. She snatched something from inside and tossed it at Bellamy who caught it on reflect. It was a small gray cloth pouch on a braided cord.

“Look inside,” she spat, the entire room still between them.

He raised an eyebrow at her but followed her instructions. A small glass bottle, identical to the ones the sky people had brought three nights prior, fell into his hands. The antidote. He met her eyes.

“She poisoned me only because I agreed to it. Before we had even left my cell,” her voice broke slightly on the word, “she had given me the cure. Clarke wants this peace to work.”

“I trust her, Bellamy,” Octavia stressed. “And as _Heda_ has decreed you two to bound, I suggest you start trying to at least tolerate her.”

Bellamy clenched his jaw and looked away.

“Have you stopped to think about anything from her perspective?” she growled. “She and her people crash landed here and all she had known since is death! She is giving up her freedom to give her people a chance to survive. Everything she had done to achieve her ends you would have done ten times over, so get off your petulant high-horse and stop making this harder for her, you idiot.” With a disgusted huff Octavia shoved past him.

He looked down at the small vile in his hand. He did not mention aloud that he had thought of the girl, how hard this would be on her, but in the terms of how much harder her being here would be on him. He knew he was being selfish in that regard, but O would not be the one who would need to be always on guard to protect the chit. Her life would not be the only one that was thrown into chaos by choices not his own, but nobody was coming to his defense.

He did not see what the big deal was, he was going through with the deed. The witch was getting her every wish met. With a sneer, he slipped the vile back into its little cloth bag walking across the room to return it to the carved box. Lincoln had outdone himself with this bit of work. Intricate designs outlined the edges with nature scenes decorating the sides. A heart was painstakingly etched on the lid guarded by a sword and shield.

Bellamy was about to simply drop the pouch inside when something shiny caught his eye. It was small rock. He poked it with a finger, a memory forming of when he had found the purple stone while wondering the woods and given it to Octavia when she was four. A small bird skull was also inside the box, a find she had been proud of for months and had shown off to everyone when she was nine. There was also their mother’s iron sewing needles, a vibrant blue and black feather, a bracelet made out of shells, and a lily pressed between two panes of precious clear glass.

He glanced at the pouch with new meaning. This box was full of things Octavia treasures and she had placed Clarke’s cure in with them. A gift that would have saved her life just as readily as it would have taken it. With a sigh Bellamy returned the pouch and gently closed the lid.

If the little witch had his sister’s stamp of approval she was either a competent liar or not completely irredeemable. And with _Heda_ ’s orders hanging over his head, he was in the perfect position to find out which was the truth.

* * *

 He caught up with Octavia outside of Lexa’s room. Gustus was blocking the door.

“If you would just let me get the bag, I can drop it off with Clarke then we can go see what _Heda_ wants,” Octavia fumed, hands on her hips.

“My _Heda_ wants you.” Gustus was not to be moved. “Your Chief also calls. I will escort you to them myself.” The last bit came out almost as a threat.

“Your _Heda_ gave me charge of the Sky girl and our guest requires her belongings.”

“You are suppose to be guarding, yet you her leave the girl alone in our village,” Gustus sneered.

“I was only suppose to be gone a few minutes,” she growled, side-eyeing Bellamy as he stepped up beside them. “I keep getting waylaid by overly macho males.”

Gustus’s face hardened. “Do not take that tone with me, pup, or I will--”

Bellamy stepped in. “Octavia go and see what they want.”

She turned on him spitting mad, “Bellamy, stay out-”

He held up his hand to stop her tirade. “I will deliver the gi- Clarke-- her things.” She looked like she was about to argue so he continued quietly, just to her. “This is me trying, O.”

She swallowed her snarl, still revving for a fight but knowing now was not the right time if she wanted this from him. She turned to Gustus, a calculating look in her eye, “you may take me to Lexa.”

“That is _Heda_ to you,” Gustus said. He hesitated, his eyes landed on Bellamy for a moment before he grunted. Turning down the hall, he grumbled over his shoulder, “follow me.”

Once they were out of sight Bellamy opened the door, carefully peeking inside. This room had always been completely off limits to him as the Chief’s private quarters. Seeing the inside of it now was almost taboo and he ground his teeth against the reaction. He was a chosen man of _Heda_ , that gave him free reign to go just about anywhere in her name. Still, he did not want to linger.

He stepped inside, eyes scanning the large room. For someone so hard, Indra had many cushioned seats. He spied the girl’s bag by the arm of the couch in the corner of the room, where she had been dosing earlier. He scooped it up, noting the weight. He remembered the ‘gun’ from last night and cursed himself a fool for not checking her things earlier, when she posed a serious threat to Lexa.

It took him a minute to figure out the fastenings but once open he tore through the contents. A set of clothes almost identical to what she wore now. Some sort of hard resin box that held bandages and soft metal tubes that had labels that were a jumble of letters that held no meaning. There were also a few of these needles, empty and wrapped is a clear slick fabric, that Bellamy slid into his own jacket pockets. No need to temp the girl before he got her measurements.

Something that looked liked a book but opened up to a black and gray flat rectangular piece of metal. There were two other squares of metal, bother smaller. One was attached to the non-book by a black cord. All were heftier than their size would suggest. Confused why someone would carry the unnecessary weight he stacked them together and set them aside.

No weapon, nothing that he could tell was dangerous. That must mean she have it concealed on her person, under that bulky jacket he had seen nothing to draw his trained eye. Not that he had been looking, fuming silently to himself over breakfast. He better get over his personal dislike of the woman and start doing his job before he made an error that cost one of his own their life.

* * *

The pack confidently swung over his shoulder, he knocked on the door knowing Octavia had the girl lock it.

After a polite minute, when he still heard nothing, he knocked again. Nothing. Frowning, he knocked again. Silence. What was she doing in there?

Unless she had escaped and was running loose in the village? He tried the door, stuck tight. What if someone got in and assaulted her? What if here assailant barred the door behind them? He shouldn’t have left her alone. He were under strict orders to see that nothing happened to her. Lexa was going to skewer him.

He was just about to go around and break in through the window when the door popped open.

“I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep. I didn’t mean--” she blabbered coming to an immediate pause when she saw who was at the door. “You’re not Octavia.”

No,” he replied dryly, annoyed now that he knew she was fine. He glanced down realising she was still only in a towel, wet hair rioting around her shoulders in a golden mass. At his gaze she seemed to shrink in on herself as she tugged up the fabric.

He frowned, not understanding this strange bit of vulnerability in the fiery princess. He ushered her back inside before anyone could hope to see it. Vulnerability was a weakness neither of them could afford if _Heda_ ’s plan was to come to fruition.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, ferocious as a feral kitten. “Where’s Octavia?”

There was that spirit he was growing to disdain. He managed to keep the grin off his face else she take it as an insult and rip his face off or, worse, a olive branch and start seeing them as friends. He was to be her guardian, nothing more.

“ _Wocha_ wanted to see her. I got your stuff.” He held out the pack. “You did not bring a gun with you?”

“You went through my stuff?” she screeched, jerking the bag from his hand with more force than he though her capable of. “You had no right!”

That tone again. He just barely kept the sneer from his voice. “I have every right, _hanafi_. Bonded we may be, you are still an outsider. I must make you safe to be around my people.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she snapped. “Thanks for the clothes, you can go now.”

Bellamy shook his head at her dismissive tone, wishing for patients. “Octavia is away. You must be guarded.”

“Well you aren't saying in here,” she forbade. “If you’re so worried I’ll go wreak havoc, you can wait by the door,” she informed him, physically shoving him out said door.

“It is not like you have something I have never seen.”

“I may get married on the first date,” she groused, “but I don’t put out.”

‘Put out,’ as in sex? He turned, letting his eyes rove over her, lingering maybe a second longer than was polite on the top of the towel. “Are you…” What was the old world word for propositioning? “Flirting?”

Her blue eyes went wide, her face flushing a becoming shade of red. “No,” she spat, slamming the door in his face.

Well, that was embarrassing. He was usually smoother then that. It was not that he was above a romp in the grass with her, children were in the cards for their future, but he did not trust her. Not that he trusted every partner he fell into bed with but with her it would be … different. He wouldn’t be able to walk away after their bodies were sated. He would have to wake up and see her, protect her, die for her if necessary.

He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it sharply. What was Lexa thinking?

His world changed when Octavia had been named Second of Trikru; she no longer had need of him. He had been fortitude enough to find a new world to belong with Lexa's offer of her Third. He had done everything she had asked of him more than willingly, believing in the future she wanted to build. But he was not sure he was ready for this. To just give him a woman he hated and order him to pledge his life to the witch.

Well, he did not know her well enough to hate _her_. He hated her actions plenty but, as Octavia had said, in her position he would probably try the same unprincipled tricks if it had the outcome he desired. However, just because they were similar did not mean he had to like the actions she did take against him and his.

He would protect the girl regardless, her status left her in a very nice position to be a powerful pawn, but it would be much better is she was not constantly spitting venom at him. And if she were more biddable, things would go easier for Lexa when she demanded tithe from the sky people.

There was another question bouncing around in his head. He heard the door open and asked it without looking at her, “why did you offer yourself at the meeting yesterday?”

She was quiet. He glanced over to see her contemplating an answer. “I am the Chancellor's daughter. It is my duty to do this.”

He looked ahead, thinking over her answer before shaking his head. “No. Your mother does not trust us. She would never send you when she could send another. Try again.”

“ _I_ want this to work,” she growled sounding frustrated now. “Why should I have someone who doesn’t have my conviction, who would only be doing this because it was ordered of them?”

“Closer,” his eyes flickered over her face, reading her expression. That was more to the truth but there was still something lurking in her eyes “but not the whole of it.” His eye’s flickered down to the exposed skin of her neck caused by her braiding her hair. “How about we go with a simpler question?” He gently tipped her chin to the side, anger turning his blood cold as he bared the bruises that he thought were dirt smudges before. “What happen here?”

He felt the flutter of fear in her pulse as she shoved him off. “Nothing.”

“You did not have these the last time you were here and Octavia would not have allowed this to happen. Who dared lay a hand on you?” He demanded. She was not getting away with that non answer again. Someone had hurt what was his, that was not to be born. The sooner she learned that the better for everyone involved.

She snorted at his order. “Like I said, no one. I fell.”

Bellamy traced the pattern of purple fingertips along her throat, “into someone’s hands?”

“Yes,” she snapped, “now stop touching me.”

“If this ‘no one,' or anyone for that matter, threatens you, tries to lay hands on you, you are to come to me. Do you understand?”

She huffed, turning away, “yeah.”

With firm hands he turned her back to him. She could snap and snarl all she wanted, he would not back down in this. “I know Lexa has explained this to you but let me as well so there is no misunderstanding. You are to be my _dula houmona_. That means it is my responsibility to protect you from anything that will cause you harm. If something threatens your safety, swear you will come to me.”

She kept her head down. “Yes.”

That was not an satisfactory answer for him. His name and position alone would keep most threats away but things would be ten times harder if others thought she was fair game to attack. He bent down so he could look onto her eyes, deadly serious, as it would not just be his status called into question if she was hurt but Lexa's position as well. “Swear it.”

Her lips tightened. “I swear,” she growled.

“Good,” he nodded, stepping back. “Come, _Heda_ wants you. Your mother should be arriving soon.”

“So fast?” she asked surprised, falling into step beside him.

“Yes,” he looked down at her. There were a lot of emotions stirring in her eyes, the main two were anger tempered by a vein of sadness. He wondered at both but made no comment as he led her to the dais where Lexa waited to greet the Sky Queen once more.

Lexa and the Chieft were already seated, a fire burning cheerfully in a grate in front of them. Gustus stood behind _Heda_. Octavia was nowhere in sight.

“Clarke,” Lexa greeted. “How was your bath?”

“Good.” The girl nodded her head in Indra’s direction. “My thanks, Chieftess, for your hospitality.”

Indra looked up from a her steaming mug at the thanks, about to grunt a non-committal reply when her eyes locked on the discoloration on her throat. “Who has put those marks on you?”

Clarke’s hand clasped to her neck, looking strickent. “It was a misunderstanding. Not here,” she was quick to point out. “At the ark. It’s nothing.”

“And will not happen again,” Bellamy said, his voice hard.

Indra met his eyes. “See that it does not.”

He came up behind the blond guiding her over to a bench. She glared but sat. He glanced at Lexa then sat beside the girl, moving his sword out of the way. She tried to edge away him.

“Be still,” he commanded on a whisper, barely moving his lips.

“You are not the boss of me,” she whispered back between clenched teeth.

“If you want to get through this, I am. Take down your hair.”

“Why would I listen--”

“Just do it.” He felt her glare so he took a deep breath. If he was going to have to explain every little thing to her, this was going to get old fast. “You do not want mommy-dearest to see your neck. And what possessed you to wash your hair?”

“It was filthy,” she snapped, but none the less started breaking up the braid running her fingers through it to fan it out.

Her hair was rather pretty, especially when the sun hit it as it was right then. It was not a shade common to his people and he found himself itching to touch it. He ruthlessly squashed the thought.

“At least it will dry this way,” he commented.

She shot him a snarky look then went to ignoring his presence at her side.

“Where is Octavia?” she questioned the group.

Lexa answered. “She is packing and setting up our security detail.”

“So she’ll be traveling with us?” Clarke asked excited.

“Until we reach Polis. Then she will move on to gather trainees for the season.”

“What’s a ‘trainee’?”

Everyone was a bit taken about by the question. It was Indra that answered. “They are students of war. They go home for the cold then come back to train.”

“Oh. Then what are the people on the east side of camp?”

“They are warriors. Full grown. They stay all year.”

“How many-” Bellamy nudged her side to keep her from asking more questions. Indra was already starting to look suspicious. Clarke turned and glared at him but remained quiet.

“Would you care for some tea?” Lexa offered.

* * *

They had been sitting for over half an hour, when Indra stood. The blond, who was starting to nod off as his side, her empty cup clasped loosely on her lap, was startled into full wakefulness. She somehow managed to catch the cup before it fell out of her hands.

“I have other things I can be doing,” Indra growled, stalking off the dais. “Call me if this Star Queen ever shows.”

Clarke sat up, rubbing her eyes, looking the worse for wear after her brief nap. She looked at the position of the sun before glancing at Lexa. “They should’ve been here by now?”

“Yes.”

“Should we be concerned,” she asked carefully.

Lexa’s face devoid of emotion. “Yes.”

“If those men do not return, your life is forfeit.” Gustus intoned from behind her.

Clarke shot him a dirty look. “Yeah, that’s real helpful.”

“He is not wrong,” Lexa said.

Bellamy felt Clarke tense beside him. “You’re the one who sent them,” she growled.

The Commander looked at Clarke from beneath lowered lids. “Yes.”

“That’s not fair! I-” Bellamy elbowed her again, reading Lexa’s mood. She turned on him. “Stop doing that!”

He gave her a look that said in no uncertain terms to keep her shrewish mouth shut. She glared at him, glared at Lexa, then at Gustus for good measure before standing in a huff and stomping to the edge of the dais.

Bellamy stood as well, moving with her. Besides a dark scowl she ignored his presence as she paced the rim of the platform.

More time passed and the girl looked about ready to have a panic attack when a yipping cry echoed through the village.

Clarke sagged, sighed in relief, “they’re here.”

“Yes.” Lexa stood, turning to give Gustus quiet instruction. He frowned but went to do her bidding. She turned back to Clarke. “But it is far from over, _strikon_.”

* * *

 

Translation:

 _strikon_ "little one"


	42. The Answer to Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start by saying thank you to everyone who has read my story, kudo'd, book marked. I apreaciate each and every one of you.
> 
> Thank you to olioliwoo, Ladyrosvolio, Bc, CanYouUnzipMe, escape4rmreality, SoBe, fangirlFiona, nicky, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, stargirl, SuzySioux, OverlyInvestedFangirl, Lala1500, Kiyomisa, and YoSafBridge (sMaturin) who commented on the previous chapter.
> 
> Special thanks to:  
> Vialark who commented on what feels like all the previous chapters. 
> 
> Shiveria who was kind enough to be used as a sound board for this chapter (I hope I left some surprises for you ;p)
> 
> mallow87 for also reading and commenting on an earlier work. 
> 
> With out further to do...

Clarke sighed in relief at the _geda’_ s greeting call. Her mind had been spiraling down darker and darker roads for the last half hour as Mr. Dark-N-Brooding breathed down her neck. The weight lifting off her, that her mom had actually shown up and things were going to be alright now, was heady.

“Things are far from over, _little one_ ,” Lexa cautioned, not unkindly.

And just like that, Clarke crashed back into reality. The _heda_ was right of course. A hundred things could go wrong from here until the ceremony. Then after the ceremony a thousand more things would need to be worked through. Only then was there even the slightest margin of success. Clarke pressed the inner corner of her eye on the bridge of her nose trying to get some relief from the headache pounding away in her skull.

A _wan-rona_ and rider sailed through the village gate. Clarke was so in awe of the majesty of both beast and man, at how effortlessly the moved together, it took her a minute to register that they were heading for the daise and that Lexa was stepping from the platform to meet them.

Clarke made to follow without thinking.

Bellamy stepping in her path, cut her off with a raised hand.

“Stay,” he growled down at her before trailing behind his leader.  

She bit her tongue against a sharp retort folding her arms across her chest and shifting her weight from foot to foot. Wait, she didn’t have to listen to him. With a mental middle finger she stepped down next to them as the rider came to a halt refusing to acknowledge Bellamy’s glare.

 _“Everyone good?”_ Lexa asks the warrior in trigedasleng.

“ _Yes, Heda,”_ the rider answers in kind _._ If Clarke hadn’t been watching keenly, she would have missed the slight loosening of the _heda_ ’s shoulders beneath the red cape.

_“The others?”_

_“Keeping watch.”_ The man rolled his eyes in derision. “ _These sky people hosa no better than children_.”

Clarke frowned at the insult to her people. It wasn’t as if they had the animals in space to practice on, for many it would be their first time seeing one of the things. The thought of actually riding one of the seven foot creatures was terrifying.

Bellamy leaned over to say softly in english, “the others are coming.”

She blinked at him confused. “What?”

“The other riders are coming. With your mother,” he clarified for her and she realised he didn’t know she understood what was being said.

It took her a second to remember she wanted it that way so she couldn’t snap at him for omitting the majority of the conversation. Instead she nodded tightly and vowed to keep a tighter rein on her reactions.

“ _Thank you for your badannes,”_ Lexa said. The man nodded and nudged his mount into a slow walk for the stables.

Lexa turned and reconquered the platform. Bellamy jerked his chin, saying Clarke should precede him. With pursed lips she complied.

Clarke and Lexa were sitting, Bellamy broodingly standing behind the _heda_ with crossed arms, when the rest of the grounder party rode through the gate. There was another cry, this time from the people of the village as they all rushed the group completely engulfing them. There were shouts of joy as some of the riders dismounted and tears as villagers surged forward to touch the men they thought were lost for good.

She happened to glimpse Sampson head and shoulders above almost everyone else. He had a little girl, no more than six or seven, in his arms. A broad grin on his bearded face as the child clung tightly to his neck. He was hugging her back just as hard.

Clarke caught his eye, raising both eyebrows in question, ' _the others?’_

His smile softened a bit as he nodded, hoisting the girl up in one arm he gestured behind him, ' _they are all here.'_  She smiled back, a knot of tension loosening.

She recognized her mom as a _geda_ guard lead them around the mass of people. She was riding one of the beasts, a leather cord attached from its headgear to the Warrior riding beside. Marcus was seated behind her, an arm around round her waist as they jostled on the animal’s back.

As they were lead before the daise Lexa stood. Almost befor the beast could stop Abby was slinging a leg over and all but falling from the structured rigging to reach the ground.

“Star Queen,” Lexa said arm stretched out in greeting.

Abby ignored it, storming up the platform. “I have released your men like you demanded, now return my daughter.”

Clarke winced internally, the Chancellor was in a fine rage.

“Mom,” Clarke cautioned, trying for an air of arbitration, as she stepped forward feeling Bellamy move with her. “I’m here of my own volition. I’ve accepted the proposal from yesterday and we’ve just been waiting for you to start the ceremony.”

“Absolutely not,” fury blazed in Abby's eyes as she snapped out the words. “The council will decide if and whom will accept that offer.”

That tone got her back up as few other things could. “To the outer ring with the council!” Clarke snarled, all good intentions tossed to the wind at her mother’s complete disregard to her choice. “ _I_ have accepted the marriage and _I_ will be the one to go through with it.”

Abby spoke condescendingly, “you are too young to know what you’re agreeing to.”

“If I’m old enough to be floated then I’m old enough to choose a husband.”

“Any grounder man you chose,” Abby spat, “will not be a husband, Clarke, he will be a jailer.”

No one contested her words.

“Be that as it may,” Clarke spoke steadily through a clenched jaw. “This is my decision.”

Abby turned hard eyes to Lexa. “Is there someplace I can have a word with my daughter. In private.”

The Commander looked between the two women. There was deeper emotions at play and there was not much time for them to sort through them. She glanced at the sky marking the hour in the sun rays before waving a hand at Bellamy. “My third will show you.” She met Clarke’s eyes. “Be aware, time is short.”

“ _Heda_ ,” Bellamy hesitated, itching to refuse. He did not like the idea of leaving the Commander unguarded with outsiders in their midst, even surrounded by their own people.

Lexa met his eyes for less than a quarter of a second, her will clashing with his and his protective nature, before he bowed his head and relented. With a tight jaw he gestured for Clarke and her mother to follow him.

As they stepped down from the daise, Marcus stepped from the small group of Ark Guards to block their path. “Abby, what’s happen?”

“Not now, Marcus,” the Chancellor brushed past him. He made to follow but a growled order from Bellamy had the _geda_ guards blocking his path. A bit roughly as it caused Marcus to stumble back.

Abby turned to demand what was going on but Clarke nudged her forward, "it’s fine, go.”

The village seemed to be nearly deserted as they marched through, everyone having flocked to greet the newly returned warriors.

“Here.” Bellamy was leading them to the soak house.

Clarke raised an eyebrow at his choice.

He bristled. “It is private.”

And that there was not back exit never even crossed his mind. Clarke nodded sarcastically.

He huffed shaking his head at the irritating female as he took up his guard position by the door; arms crossed, legs braced, frown firmly in place.

“What are you doing?” Clarke challenged.

“You are still under _Heda’s_ protection,” Bellamy sneered at her keeping his gaze pointedly ahead. “Do not take all day, _hainofi.”_

Clarke rolled her eyes storming inside, her mother right behind her. She kept going, wanting the whole room between them, as Abby slammed the door laying into her.

“What in Hawking’s name was that?” she ordered, wildly gesturing to the door and the man on the other side.

“Like I’ve said, I have accepted the Commander’s proposal from yesterday. That proposal now includes him.”

“Him? You can’t marry _him_ , he wants to kill you! How could you be so stupid, Clarke?”

“He wont kill me,” Clarke rolled her eyes not recognizing this type of melodrama in her mother. “And by marrying him I'm cementing this alliance. That’s all that matters.”

“Do you honestly believe tying yourself with these people, to that man, is going to magically fix everything?” Abby raged pacing back and forth in front of the small area by the door.

“No,” Clarke said, “but it’s a good a place as any to start.”

“It’s a mistake!” Abby snapped.

“Then it’s my mistake to make,” Clarke said folding her arms accost her chest. “I’m doing this. Nothing you can say or do is going to change that.”

“You really think that?” her mother criticized, crossed her arms. “Did you forget about their conditions? A baby, Clarke. You’re barely eighteen, do you really want to raise a child in this environment? With that kind of man?”

Clarke shrugged, forcing nonchalance into the movement and lowering her tone just incase Bellamy was listening out there. “I’m keeping my implant.”

“What about after that stops working?”

“That’s three years from now. When we get there, I’ll reevaluate.” Not that there would be much to evaluate. She refused to bring a child into a world where all they would ever know was war. Not to mention the small fact that she might not even live that long. Joyful thoughts to be had all around.

Abby spoke forcefully, enunciating each word for full impact, “this decision will ruin your life.”

“Ruin my life?” Clarke almost choked on the hypocrisie. “You don’t think floating dad already did that? Or locking me up for six months? Tell me _mother_ ,” she spat the word, “would you have stood by if the council decided I was too much of a threat to be left back into population and floated me as well?”

“I--” her eyes flickered down, her disciplined doctor personal slipping ever so slightly. “I would have stopped it.”

“Stars,” Clarke huffed, blinking back tears. “I wish I could believe that.”

Abby jerked as if struck. “I’m sorry I failed you,” she said softly. Clarke closed her eyes against the pain in her mother’s voice

“Mom...” Anger was getting them nowhere. Taking a breath she softened her stance, unfolding her arms. “You make a great Chancellor. You’ve always strived to make the best decision for the good of the Ark, no matter the personal cost, and that’s what our people need right now. Don’t let your emotions get in that way of that.”

“That’s not--”

“I know about the food shortage,” Clarke interrupted before she could rev up her argument again. “The Ark has three, maybe four weeks before we run out completely.”

“The gatherers are--”

“Not bringing in enough to feed everyone and we both know it.” She swallowed, getting her annoyance back under control. Why couldn’t she just see this was what needed to be done and be proud that her daughter was willing to do it. “Lexa has promised to send food, enough to keep us going until we can start producing our own, after we reach Polis.”

“They’re taking you away?” Abby reared back. “No, absolutely not. We’ll find another way, find somebody else to take your place. I can’t lose you, too.”

“I’m doing this,” Clarke stepped forward and taking her mother's hands to calm her panic. She looked her in the eyes, “I grew up with you and Thelonious on the council, I know how people in power operate and I know how to work with them or around them. Only Wells can claim the same and he is in no condition to commit to something like this. It has to be me.” She squeezing her hands, “you know it.”

“Please--”

Clarke shook her head, firm in this. Showing in her body language that she would not be swayed. Abby sobbed. Enveloping her daughter in a hug she held her close, running her fingers through her hair like she did when Clarke was a little girl.

Clarke let her knowing this might be the only time either one of them would get for any kind of goodbye. As angry as she still was at her mother for everything she had done, she didn’t hate her and wanted to give herself this so she wouldn’t regret it later.

“Promise me you’ll stay safe,” her mother demanded fiercely.

Clarke hugged her back and lied, “I promise.”

* * *

As they made their way back to the group Clarke noticed that it seemed everyone from the village had moved from their gathering at the gates to surrounding the dais. Octavia, the Chieftess, and Gustus had joined Lexa on the platform. The Arkers were still being kept separated at the foot of the dais. Clarke looked them over.

Marcus’s face collapsed into relief when he saw them. They haven't brought Callie, which was surprising. Clarke hoped her non-genetic aunt was alright. In her place they had brought a handful of upper guards. Ken, Callie’s second, Jonatan, Marcus’s personal favorite, Carter, Rebecca. The last guard was faced away, appearing to actually be talking with one of the geda guards. Shaggy brown hair, too thin arms; he seemed so familiar and yet...

Clarke came to such an abrupt halt that Bellamy ran into her and had to keep the both of them from tumbling into the dirt. She whirled on her mother, “what is he doing here!”

“Mr. Murphy volunteered.” Her Chancellor mask was firmly back in place, control paramount. “If what your letter claimed was true, I believed him to be as good a substitute as any to take your place and allowed him to come.”

“My substitute?” Becoming consiounsion of the people surounding them, Clarke made a point to lower her voice. “You can’t just play with people’s lives!”

“As I said, he volunteered. He decided that it was preferable to remaining in the skybox.”

“He shouldn’t have even been in the skybox to begin with,” she seethed.

“Need I remind you of the fifty or so laws the both of you broke pulling your little stunts.”

“You mean the ones that will end up saving everyone? Yeah, I remember.”

Abby cut her a sharp look, worry lurking deep in her eyes. “That remains to be seen. Mr. Murphy decided he wished to atone not in a cell but in the relative freedom on the grounders camp. He will now do so as your guard.”

Anyway you looked at it, it was a back handed slap to the _Geda._ Clarke’s jaw dropped at her mother’s audacity. “No.”

“This is not up for discussion.”

“You can’t just--” began only to have Bellamy interrupt her.

“She will have no need for a guard. I will be her protector.”

The Chancellor's eyes raked him. “Forgive me for not trusting you one iota with my daughter’s safety.”

He raised an eyebrow at the promised threat in those eyes. He was starting to see where his _dula houmona_ got her fire. “It is my life for hers. Trust I wish myself no harm.”

“You’re not helping,” Clarke snapped at him. He shrugged trying to corral them up the steps.

“It is time.” Lexa was already standing, a knife in hand. Seeing it, Clarke stepped forward rolling her sleeve up.

Abby cut her off with an upraised arm. “First we will disgust this ‘aid’ my daughter has talked about.”

Lexa’s eyes were cool. “Clarke has not told you?”

“I’d rather hear it from you.”

The _heda_ twirled the blade in her finger tips. “Food and assistance to see that you and yours live through the growing season.”

“For?” Abby promoted.

“Promise of peace between our people and the pledge of assistance,” Lexa’s smile was sharp as she held the other woman's eyes, “if the time comes.”

“And if we don’t like what form this ‘assistance’ is is asked when the time comes?”

Lexa’s eyes flickered over Clarke in a meaningful way.  

“I see. And if I don’t allow my daughter to go through with this?”

“Mother,” Clarke hisses, grabbing her arm.

“You may take her if you so wish, but as she has agreed we will see it as a breach of peace and an acknowledgment of war. Will that be your decision?”

“If-”

“No,” Clarke stepped in front of her mother. “The Ark is more then willing to come to the aid of our allies, as they have come to ours, if the need arises.”

“Clarke!” Abby snapped trying to grab her back.

She dodged the grab coming to stand before the _heda._ She held out her hand for the dagger. “I am ready to pay of this chance of peace in blood.”

“Blood?” Abby barked sweeping forward, her eyes darting to the knife. “They want you to cut yourself? With that? Has it even been sanitised?”

“The blade has been set to fire.” Octavia piped in helpfully.

Abby frowned. “That dirty metal is not coming anywhere near her skin.”

“Mom, it’s fine,” Clarke protested.

“No, Clarke. We don’t know what kind of bacteria is on that thing. If anything starts to happen what type of medical attention do you’ll think you’ll find?”

“For the love of Hubble,” she growls going to grab the knife out of the _heda_ ’s hand and instantly the _geda_ around tense, hands reaching for weapons. Clarke groans, freezing in place. “I was not attacking her or trying to be threatening. I am simply taking the knife you all want me to slice myself with so we can get this over with. If we all can, for two minutes, pretend to be the allies we claim we are, this will move a lot faster.”

“Agreed.” Lexa waves a hand, and her people reluctantly stand down. She looks Clarke over, plans she has in her mind consolidating into likely realitis with each new move this girl makes. She smiles as she hands the knife to her hilt first, showing her people that in the act that this woman was trusted.

Clarke nods, recognizing from the faces around her the amount of good faith being being given in the act. She turns marching over to her backpack that is under the bench she and Bellamy has shared earlier.

Bellamy fallows. “What are you doing?”

Clarke wonders if this is how it will be between them, him constantly in her shadow casting judgment on her every action, as she digs in her bag. She pulls out her med kit, bracing it on her lap so that she can open it.

“Fire is great and all but the Chancellor will be much happier if we sterilise this with more trusted methods. Hey,” she challenged running her hands through the contents. “did you take my syringes?”

“Those sticks you used on my sister? Yes.”

“Well, can I get them back?”

“No.”

“Asshole,” Clarke huffs in disbelief under her breath turning back to her supplies. “Here, hold this,” she hands him the knife so she can use both hands to dig around see what else he though she shouldn’t have.

She instantly feels a prickly along her spine and turns to see Bellamy contemplating the knife thoughtfully. ‘ _He wants to kill you,’_ she remembers her mother's words but she didn’t really give weight to them til that second believing him too much his _heda’_ s man. She swallowed thickly. He felt her regard and looks up to meet it.

“If you are going to kill me,” she whispers, “don’t do it here.” Her eyes flicker over the Ark gunmen and the native children with parents there to see the ceremony. It would be a massacre.

“My life for yours. You are safe as long as _mon Heda_ finds you useful.”

Clarke just nodded, adrenaline making her a bit shaky. “Hold out the knife.”

He does as asked and she slashes isopropyl alcohol over the blade.

“What did you do?”

She screwed back on the lid to the bottle and returned everything to her backpack. “Gave my mom a chill pill before she starts World War 4.”

Bellamy’s face pinched in anger. “What?”

Right, not the best person to joke with. With an eye roll she stood. “Nothing. Never mind. Here give me that,” she takes the knife back from him. “All set.”

“Then let us begin,” Lexa said. “Bellamy come to me.” Once he reached her he fell to one knee. She nodded, turning to Clarke. “Now, Clarke--”

“Octavia has already explained everything.” She stepped up beside Lexa, directly in front of the kneeling _geda_ warrior. With a deep breath she set the blade upon her wrist and gently drew it up the pale skin. The edge was sharp, cutting easily so blood welled up.

Bellamy quickly took her hand, letting the blood flow over their intertwined fingers, and chanted in _trigedasleng_ staring deep in her eyes, _“I will be your sword and shield. I will stand and fight beside you all the days of my life. With this vow we are bound in duty for this day and all the rest.”_

“Now you repeat, ‘ _gon nau en o ostof’_.” Clarke was mesmerized at the amount of sincerity he was pouring into the words that it too her a minute to understand Lexa had been talking to her.

She broke eye contact with Bellamy, swallowing thickly and stuttered out the required _trigedasleng_ phrase, _“for this and all the rest.”_

He touched their bloody wrists to his forehead and the crowd broke out in a cheer, letting out long wallabling cries. Just like that, they were tied together in the eyes of the clan. And just like that, her entire world changed.

Bellamy stood, leaving the bloody smerr on his forhead. Shakily Clarke handed the knife back to Lexa, who accepted it with a self satisfied grin. Abby stood on looking horrified.

Clarke stared at her blood stained her hand, knowing this was far from being over and hoping the image wasn’t an omen.

* * *

Translations:

 _Hosa_ (ride)

“ _Thank you yur badannes” (Thank you_ for your service)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there it is. Over a year of writing wrapped up nice and neat with a cliffhanger. Your welcome };) The title to this chapter is in relationship to the number of chapters for the story. I thought it was funny. 
> 
>  
> 
> So for the final decision to a previous question I will be creating a second connected work for the continuation of this story under the tital "Where Mountains Stand (Free) is where I call home." I'm debating adding the (free) in there but I really do like the idea of having both stories having the same acronym. If anyone wants to throw out an F-word that might fit?
> 
> I will be taking a break from this story (a longer one then I've already taken) to write on other ideas for a bit and to get the plot for the second half a little more cemented. 
> 
> I hope to see you in the next installment ~Jay


	43. Part 2 -- Where Mountains Stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did not get nearly as much done on my hiatus as I wanted but let's do this anyway!
> 
> First off thank you everyone who read or left kudos. And exspecailly to those who commented!  
> blakefreckles, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, olioliwoo, nzfangirl01, CanYouUnzipMe, suku, escape4rmreality, SoBe, knsinger1212, Kiyomisa, RandomName101, SkepticalBeliever, DracoTerrae, Seriouslyobsessed, myhappylittletrees, mallow87, Meowface, smarticles96, ImaginaryZombies, rainboWarrior, meremennen, BookSlayingBitch, marsha, greeneyedreader, OverlyInvestedFangirl, Winky_xx, StarlightAfterAStorm, J, Lux

Bellamy grumbled to himself as he checked the cinches on his saddle, a little more aggressive than strictly necessary, making sure everything secure to his mount Bucephalus. When he had told his bonded that they’d be leaving soon, he had expected her to follow right behind him. The rest of the _Heada’s_ guards, as well as the several trikru warriors that would be traveling with them to as far as Polis were, already standing by their horses, waiting.  He was starting to look like an idiot.

“Bellamy,” Lexa questioned grabbing his attention away from checking his saddle bag for the tenth time, “where is Clarke?”

He drew himself up, wanting to scratch at the dried blood on his forehead but refraining, “I do not know, _Heda.”_

“Is she not your responsibility?” Gustust grumbled from behind their mistress.

“She is, Second,” they had been bound for less than an hour and she was already making him look weak.

“Find her,” Lexa said calmly. “We leave shortly.”

Bellamy bowed fist over heart and turned to find his errant wife.

He found her curled on the stairs leading up to the platform with her ever present backpack in her lap, sound asleep and completely exposed. Did the chit not have a gram of self-awareness? With a disgusted shake of his head that he was ever even worried about her he went to get her up.

“Hey,” he tried shaking her. “Hey, _hainofi_ , wake up. We need to go.”

“Aww, you have a cute pet name for her already?”

Bellamy turned to see a tall, lanky youth in a grey-white Sky people uniform standing at the edge of the building. He had one of those guns strapped across his shoulder but his hands were folded in front of him away from the weapon and a shit eating grin on his face.

“And you are?” Bellamy demand.

“Murphy, the guy who gets to make sure you don’t kill the princess over there in a fit of marital rage.”

Great, another person he would need to keep an eye on when the reached Polis, exactly what he did not want. “You services will not be necessary. Return to your people.”

“No can do, lover boy, I’m tethered to the princess there. Where she, goes I go. But, don’t misunderstand, when I say ‘make sure you don’t kill’ I really mean ‘make sure I’m not there’.”

“Murphy,” his bonded groaned sitting up from the stoop, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “do you ever just not talk? Your personality really needs to be eased onto people.”

The kid shrugged, “just introducing myself to Sir Matcho so there’s no confusion later on.” He winked at Bellamy.

Bellamy frowned, ignoring the boy, and turning to his bonded, “ _Heda_ is waiting.”

“Yeah,” she waved him off stretching, “we’re coming.”

“No, right now,” he reached down to hoist her to her feet.

She popped from her seat with less resistance then he anticipated so he was caught off guard when she forced her heel into his instep and jerked his thumb backwards to break his hold on her wrist shoving him back a stumbling step.

“I know we’re both new to this,” the guard Murphy snickered as the blond shoved a hank of hair out of her face to glare at Bellamy as he straightened, “but I really don’t like to being ordered around and I liked being grabbed even less.”

“Noted,” Bellamy growled not sure who he wanted to strangle more.

“Now, if you would like to direct us to Lexa we can leave.”

He nodded sharply waving the girl and her guard in the direction of the stable falling in step behind them.

Octavia intercepted them first leading her own horse Sheba. “So he finally found you.”

“She was sleeping on the dais,” Bellamy informed his sister, steering his bonded around to his horse and the spare mount he had saddled for her. “Up you go.”

The girl balked at the sight of the beast, “I can’t ride.”

Bellamy looked at her sharply, “what do you mean ‘you can’t ride’?”

She shot him a quelling look. “It means that there are no horses in space and this is the closest I’ve been to one in my life.”

Octavia trotted up on her Sheba. “She can ride double with me.”

“No,” Bellamy made the decision. She would need to know how to ride so she would learn. Immediately. Very much like how she pointed out her ‘gun’ he pointed out the components of the horse and tack before tossing her up. “This foot goes in there, grab here, now jump and pull yourself up.” He gave her an extra lift with a push on her butt into the saddle. “Hold these and do not let go. Pull like this to go right. Left. Remember, gently. Stopping being so tense, you’ll rattle your spine from here to Police if you ride like that. Relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” she growled under her breath as he mounted up and Bellamy had to hide a smile. “Bellamy, its moving!”

“That is kinda there thing. Relax. Her name is Darkfire, not ‘it’. She’s a sweet thing that will just follow the crowd, you won't have to do anything.

“What if it-- she-- takes off?”

“Then hold on.”

She shot him a dirty look.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “She’s not going to take off--” she opened her mouth to protest but he quickly continued, “but if she does, then gently and slowly start pulling to one side. Do not hall back on the reins, do not yell or scream. Calmly get her into a tighter and tighter circle till she ties herself out. Do you think you can do that, _hainofi_?”

“There goes that pet name again,” Murphy drawled nudging his own horse into their little group.

“Where did you find that,” Bellamy demanded having already made the decision to leave the boy behind.

“There’s this big building right over there that has dozens of them. Told them I was part of the grounder part leaving for Polis and they got me a horse. You guys sure are hospitable.” The grin he shot Bellamy said he knew he was trying to be pushed out and had taken things into his own hands. “So are we getting this show on the rode or not?” He prodded his horse forward, his movements almost childlike in their incompetence, but the horse plotted ahead.

“Denae,” his bonded chirped happily her eye’s locked at someone in the crowd. “I sent a boy to you with the medicine jar you gave me. Did you get it?”

Bellamy ducked under the horse’s neck to place himself between the head cook and his outsider wife. “Can I be of service, _Randzi_ Denae _?”_

Cook was an important position in any village but being Cook of a chief's village took it to a whole new level. They became the nurturers to not only the warrior’s of the village but also children that came to train. Becoming the the last line of defense of a Nation’s future in the case of an outside attack. Denae had held her position for a last dozen years and while the last several had been peaceful she had been responsible for thousand’s of children’s life during the Warring days.

Everyone respected her and her abilities and her presents carried weight. A weight Bellamy acutely felt as she turned her eyes on him but spoke to the girl on the horse.

“Yes, Lotay returned it to me but it was a gift and gifts are not to be returned.” Stepping around Bellamy as if he didn’t exist Denae placed a stone jar in his bonded's hands, “keep it close. You will have need of it before long, _Gada Chon Meika Krasha Skaifaya_.”

* * *

_Hainofi - princess_

Randzi - skilled cook

 _Gada Chon Meika Krasha Skaifaya_ \- girl who makes waves in the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	44. Travel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RayanneJD, Em11134, mallow87, Nicky, suku, SoBe, nzfangirl01, Siham, TrueLoveBeautyandBeast, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, StarlightAfterAStorm, Addicted2TV, KaiteKat24, olioliwoo, Lilly_Halliwell.
> 
> 35,000 hits!  
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> To the old who have stuck with my for all this time  
> And the new who gave this story the chance.

After her prophetic words Denea turned and slapped two trail-meals into Bellamy’s chest with orders to see that the girl ate before fading back into the milling horses.

He arched a brow at the blond, ‘what was that all about.’ Denea was a law unto herself and was not one to take kindly to outsiders but she had been nearly friendly to his bonded.

She shrugged in reply as Octavia helped her attach her backpack to the back of her saddle.

Lexa, having seen her new pet was accounted for, gave the order to move out. Storing the meal packs in his saddle bags Bellamy swung easily into his seat atop Bucephalus. Turning the great beast’s head so that he fell into step next to the sky girl he showed her wordlessly how to easy Darkfire into a walk.

Checking over her riding form Bellamy shook his head in resignation. When he found the time the first thing would be teaching her how to sit a horse. It was painful to watch just how bad she was and he knew she would be feeling the repercussions of it by nightfall.

* * *

Bellamy moved up and down the line, checking with the warriors, keeping a lookout on the surrounding area for possible dangers, and reporting all to Lexa frequently as she road at the head of the trail. They People were in a rare time of peace but it never payed to be incautious.

He passed his sister a few times performing similar duties. The Skyguard, Murphy, was talking with the newly minted warrior Klaiya and getting rebuffed at every turn. He debated stepping in but decided if Klaiya got fed up enough she would get rid of the nuisance for Bellamy.

The sun was starting to peak when the other warriors begin pulling out their trail meals. With Denea’s order ringing in his ear, and knowing she had only eaten a slice of bread that morning, he pulled out the two meals and went in search of his bonded.

Spotting her blond head midway up the line, Bellamy nudged Bucephalus next her Darkfire.

“Here,” reaching over he tapped her twice with the flat parcel and had to almost unseat himself to catch her when she slid sideways. “ _What are you doing_!”

The idiot jerked awake, hauling back on the reins and causing her horse to dance back at the abrupt change of direction.

Moving quick Bellamy scooped her off the horse before she could do anymore damage. Once she was safely set before him he laid into her. “You cannot sleep on a horse! What are you thinking?”

“I was resting my eyes for half a second” Clarke growled pushing on his shoulders to squirm away.

“ _Ste stil!_ ” he shoved her arms down giving her a quick shake to get her to listen before she could agitate Bucephalus as well with her flailing. “If you had fallen and broke your neck what do you think happens to your people? Or what if you had damaged Darkfire with your stupidness? Do Sky People not think?”

“It won't happen again,” she huffed.

“Damn right it wont, you are now riding with me. For fuck’s sake _,_ I thought you were untutored not incompetent.”

“Hubble, you’re such an asshole.” She stiffens and pulls away from him, sitting straight back and haughty in front of him. “I’ll go ride double with Octavia.”

“She has point and can not be babying you right now.”

“Well I’m not riding with you for how ever much longer we have. So either get me back on Darkfire or I’m walking.”

“You are not walking, you have already put us behind as it is!” he growled down at her back as she refused to face him.

“Sorry to interrupt," a voice called from behind him. Bellamy turned having not realized their tiff had drawn company. Sindri bent in his saddle to casually catch up Darkfire’s reins, even though she was doing exactly as she was trained and keeping ground tied. “I could not help but overhear your difficulties. It is no trouble if Clarke wants to ride with me.”

Sindri and Bellamy were of similar builds and had a blend of features that women found pleasing but it was not competitive rivalry or jealousy that made Bellamy dislike the man. It was the falseness of him, the perpetual liar's smile, that always set Bellamy off. That the boy was also Queen Nia’s whelp did him no favors.

The thought of someone under his care, even if it was by an edict, in the hands of Sindri made Bellamy’s skin crawl. It make Bellamy’s temper soar that his bonded seemed to contemplate taking the snake up on his offer.

“She is fine,” Bellamy growled swinging her back atop her own horse before she could open her mouth. Ripping the reins from Sindri’s hands he pressed the into Clarke’s, ordering through gritted teeth, “keep your eyes open.”

She gave him a sour look before nodding sharply.

Ignoring her tantrum, he dismounted to pick up the rations that had fallen when he had rushed to save her her ungrateful ass. One was still intact while the other’s wrapping had come undone spilling some of its contents in the dirt.

“I’ll take that one,” she said reacting for the messy one, “it was my fault they fell anyway.”

“Yes it was,” he grumbled pressing the intact one into her hands before mounting up. Picking off some of the larger debris he bit into his sandwich. There had been many times in his life when there was no food to be had, a little dirt was not going to stop him now.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her shake her head in exasperation but tuck into her own sandwich as the rejoined the line.

He stayed close to her, nether saying anything as they ate, keeping Bucephalus as a buffer until Sindri got the hint and moved off to annoy some other people.

“There was no need for you to be so rude,” she hissed at him once Sindri was out of earshot. “He was just trying to be considerate, you didn’t need to jump down his throat!”

Bellamy had never know Sindri to be ‘considerate’ about anything that did not directly benefit him. Until he figured out how being close to his bonded worked into the man’s favor he would not allow Clarke to be alone with him.  “Do not tell me how to do my job, _hainofi_.”

He spurred Bucephalus into a trot, returning to his duty.

* * *

 

Bellamy was making his way back up the line some time later when he spied Darkfire and her rider. He could just tell by the slow sway of the blond's head, a counterpoint to the horse’s tread, that she had completely ignored his order.

Easing his horse up next to her he bent over Bucephalus’s neck to peek up at her face. Sound asleep, chin tucked to her chest. Her braid was coming undone and wisps were curling against her cheek. God’s she was so young. Bellamy would be surprised if she was older than O’. But while Octavia was a full fledged Warrior respected by the tribe and trained from the time she could walk to take up that mantle, this girl was not cut out for this life she had thrown herself into with so little thought.

No, that was not quite true. While here all her moves had been bold and not advisable to any sane human, they had been calculated to get the outcome she had wanted.

The night of the gathering flashed in his mind. The fiery glint in her eye as she challenged him over the barrel of a gun. Another night, another look. This one cool and level as she stared down Lexa, surrounded by a dozen warriors, and made them all bow to her wishes.

The memory of Octavia’s near murder made him want to shove the girl of the horse himself to be trampled but the knowledge of the small glass vile in Octavia’s treasure box held him back. That and the understand that Lexa had given her to him for a reason.

With a sigh he went to Darkfire’s head, grabbing the bridal to direct her to the side of the path and then to a standstill. Nudging Bucephalus alongside Bellamy knotted the reins over he’s neck so he would be able to walk unhindered before he swung his right leg over his horse’s back and he slid is right foot into the left stirrup. Standing, he eased his left leg over Darkfire’s rump to mount behind the blond.

From this angle the bruising at her throat was more visible. She seemed to have a knack for attracting trouble and it was now up Bellamy to see that she did not get herself killed when she went rushing headlong into it.

“Brave princess,” he cursed, settling Clarke more comfortably in his lab as he eased the rein’s from her slack grasped and got them moving again.

At least a sleep she was not so prickly. And she did not snore, which from his time in the barracks he knew would be a blessing down the line.

Octavia rode up beside him on her way down the line, eyeing the girl in his arms.

“Not a word, O,” he said between gritted teeth.

His sister simply smiled and rode on.

* * *

 

Translations: 

 _Ste stil!_ (be still!)  
_Hainofi_ \- princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was fun. Just learned I didn't know how to spell stirrup when I was editing this. 
> 
> also Bucephalus is Alexander the Great's horse because we all love our little history buff nerd Bellamy ;)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!! :) :) :) I love hearing from you!!


	45. Conviction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about any confusion. I posted and then deleted the latest chapter because I really wasn't happy with it. I have slightly edited the beginning half (just a few words to get some emotions right) and added a lot more at the end. Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Suku, Addicted2TV, Em11134, SoBe, Nicky, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, Lilly_Halliwell, soldierwitch, olioliwoo, TrixAreForEveryone, nzfangirl01, brvecc, SkepticalBeliever, Kiyomisa, milliebobbybrown thank you all for your comments!

Clarke floats through nothingness, her mind joyously empty, when she feels something nudge her from sleep. She knows should get up, there could be an emergency, somebody could need her help, one of the tech aids wouldn’t wake her for anything else. Yet her body nonetheless refuses to cooperate; keeping her mind’s urgency under a layer of fog and her eyes glued shut.

“Go to Littmann,” she muttered already half back asleep.

The shaking jostles her a second time and she whimpers in protest as her mind finally claws its way through its fog. The comforts of sleeps fading into real world pains; she must've slept on her neck wrong and her hips _ached_.

She flexes tries to stretch the tight muscles in her thighs. Her blanket falls from her shoulders causing her to become aware of the colder air. Did she fallen asleep in a chair again?

Clarke yawns, breathing deep to oxygenate her blood and get her brain back to functioning as her eyes finally blink open. Her heart stutters, _is the world moving_ ?

Her eyes flitter around, her brain trying to orientate itself with its unfamiliar surroundings. Trees; great towering things dusted a warm gold by the low hanging sun. There are other people around too, riding giant leggy beasts. _Wan-rona_ floats through her mind, _horse_ .

Clarke’s on top of her own. The deep red of its ears catching her eye as they swivel picking up minute sounds, _Darkfire_. She is the one causing the world to sway ever so unnaturally and the cause of the pain in her’s hips as she was forced to straddle the creature’s wide back.

Clarke tries stretching again, rolling her hips forward as she forces her butt. She pushes up against resistance and a groan comes from behind her as something tightens around her waist. Frowning she looks down. A hand.

She blinked stupidly at it for a second before following it back to an arm then slowly up to a shoulder and then to the man sitting behind her.

 _Bellamy_ .

Her husband.

Like a slap in the face everything comes rushing back to her.

His face in his typical disapproving scowl as he looks down at her. “We are almost to the Polis.”

Polis, the Geda capital. The place that was now to be her home as well as her prison. And the man behind her her jailer. Even though they’re both ignoring her transgression of grinding on him Clarke can’t help but be mortified.

She stiffens in his hold sitting as far forward as the small saddle would allow, “I can ride by myself.”

She feels Bellamy huff, his breath ruffling the loose hairs at her temples, but he passed the rains back to her hands with no comment. As she settles back into directed her horse he lets out a low warbling cry. She flinches at the unfamiliar sound so close to her ear and he lays a steadying hand to her side. Clarke arches away from the touch even more discomforted.

A second later his great black brute of a horse plodded its way up to them.  

“Bring her to a stop,” Bellamy directs. Clarke panics trying to think back to his brief instructions that morning and coming up blank. Wordlessly he grabs her hands that are locked around the reins, guided them back and causing Darkfire to slow then stop under his gentle touch.

“Good,” he grunts and Clarke is annoyed by the small burst of pride she feels at his praise.

Pulling the ropes at his horse’s head he urged the animal alongside Darkfire and with minimal fuss and only one request for her to move her foot, made the transfer. She shivered with the sudden loss of his body heat. Seeing the spasms he leaned over to tug at the the cloth in her lap.

“What are you doing?” she demanded jerking away from his touch and causing her hose to shy at the untutored weight shift.

“Easy,” he said catching her hands before she could jerk the reins and cause any damage. “I was only fixing the cloak.”

“I can do it myself,” she snapped carefully removing her hands from under her hold so as not to startle Darkfire again. Cautiously transferring both tethers into her right hand Clarke reached up to resituate the cloak. Only then realizing she didn’t own a cloak. She frowned down at the material then over at Bellamy. “Is this yours?”

He grunts the affirmative, keeping his gaze on the path ahead of them.

“I don’t want it,” she says pulling it from her shoulders, bunching it up, and holding it out to him. “You use it.”

He glanced over to her, eyes frustrated, before bending in the saddle to grab the offered item. Letting gravity pull the folds flat he one-handedly twirling it back over her. “I do not feel the cold, you do. Use it.”

She glared at him before pointedly facing forward, shimming her shoulders so that the cloak fell off in a pile behind her on the saddle. He shook his head at her stubbornness. Clarke ignored him. It was less than a minute before he rode off,  no doubt to enter the city at his _Heda’s_ side.

Octavia rode up to see Clarke staring after her brother with a small frown on her face.

“You enjoy riding in my brothers arms?” the girl quipped and Clarke’s glare transferred to her. Octavia laughed keeping Sheba in pace with Darkfire. “For your first time, you ride well enough.”

“My legs hurt,” Clarke confessed quietly, shifting her hips again. The movement brought heat to her cheeks but she refused to acknowledge why.

Octavia gently drew back the reins when Darkfire took that as a signal to go faster. “Yeah, that will only get worse.”

Clarke shot her a grateful smile before the words registered and her smile fell. “How much worse?”

Octavia shot her a knowing look, “where you wont want anything between your legs for a long while.”

For some disturbing reason the image of Bellamy popped into her mind and she quickly beat it back with a stick.

As if reading her mind, Octavia shot her a grin. “My brother is a good man. Lexa chose well for you, as well for this alliance you want to create.”

“Did you not just tell me last night to not trust your brother?”

“That was last night.” Octavia shrugged easily, “much has changed since then.”

Clarke sighted not believe that much has really changed. Yes, they now had know had the beginnings of an alliance with the Trekrew, whose lands a large majority of the stations had crashed into. But she also knew that if her and her people were to have any change of long term survive down here they would need to be apart of the Twelve Clans.

With Lexa having chosen to tie Clarke to the Trekrew by marring her to the clan’s second’s brother she had given the Ark a major leg up in future negotiations. By binding Clarke to her personal third she had gone even further, placing a very physical stamp of approval on the outcome of those future negotiations. And know Lexa did not want war, with her people are the rest of the Krew’s was a huge weight off Clarke’s shoulders.

Now all Clarke needed was to figure out how to use all those advantage to get her people what they needed.  

“What's it like being bonded?” Clarke asked Octavia as their traveling group tightened up formation from a long string winding through the forest to riding two to three abreast.

Octavia was looking ahead, keeping an eye on her men, and she answered distracted. “What do you mean?”

“You and Lincoln,” Clarke clarified. “How do you like being bonded?”

The brunettes head wiped to face her. “We are not bonded.”

“Oh,” Clarke tried to backpedal. “I thought-- I’m sorry, its just, you two are always together. And he--”

“We want to be,” Octavia said softly, sadly. “I love him more than anything but I can not. As Second my duty is to my Clan.”

“I don’t understand. Why can’t you be bonded and still do your job to the tribe?”

“As a second I must be available for a _Deimeika Jus-Teina_ .”

“ _Deime--_ that’s what Bellamy and I have isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Octavia nodded. “It is a marriage of duty. It is why leaders do not bond, we must be ready to give ourselves for our clan. It is widely known that I have a constant lover but we can not be one until my place is taken by another or I fall in battle.”

“But that’s not fair,” Clarke protested.

“Much in life is not. But I have him now and I will hold him as long as I can.”

Clarke was starting to wonder if ‘soon’ had a different meaning that she didn’t understand when they crested a rise and Polis was laid before them.

The view was … amazing. Farms, full sun and soil farms, fanned out on both sides of the river, visible even from the several mile distance. The town seemed to sprawl its way over the valley with buildings sprouting up wherever they could find room amidst the dense forest. And in the middle of it all a tower rose hundreds of feet in the air.

Clarke was awestruck. It was one thing to know that their ancestors had built such marvels and littered them around the globe. It was another to physically see those marvels soaring over her head. Back at camp they were having enough trouble making one story buildings and getting them to not collapse on their heads.

This, Clarke though, this is what her people could have. Why she accepted being a pawn, because knowledge meant nothing if they didn’t know how to use it to build a sustainable life down here.

The group dropped down into the valley an air of jovialness infecting the Riders glad to be home. It was infectious and Clarke found herself almost smiling as well until she saw Bellamy riding back down the line towards them, turning to draw rein before her and Octavia.

“Heda wants you,” he said with no preamble, his face still in its disapproving cast. “We go to the front.”

Clarke really hated being dictated to but until she understood more of the world she was stepping into it was in her best interest to just go along. So when Bellamy wheeled his horse around to go back to the front she was right behind.

The _heda_ was surrounded by several warriors that rode in a loose circle around her and besides giving her and Bellamy a cursory glance they were ignored as they joined Lexa. The most notice she got was actually from Gustus who shot her a badly disguised sneer before ignoring her completely.

The sound of rushing water slowly drowned out the sound of hooves on dirt as they came to a bridge, spanning what was no doubt the same river Clarke had seen from above. It was old, another something that predated the end of the world. The front warriors passed walked their horses on it with no problems Lexa leading the rest of the group across just as easily, then Gustus and Bellamy. It actually seemed that Clarke was the only one with hesitancies. It was just unnatural to cross something that suspended over nothingness and could crumble at any second.

There were three men _, geda_ warriors all, waiting for them on the other side that Clarke was sure weren’t there when they begin to cross.

The man in the front bowed his head, “ _Heda._ ”

“Tomac,” Lexa nodded back continuing in the same language. “ _How goes Polis?”_

_“Three chiefs have come since you have gone.”_

Bellamy cursed quietly but Lexa’s face gave nothing away as she nodded.

“I trust they have been make welcome in my absence,” she spoke to no one particular but the chill in the words were distinct and none of the warriors wanted to be the one to answer.

Not waiting for one of them men to step up to her inquiry she turning in her saddle to face her mounted warriors. “We are home!”

They all let loose an ear splitting cry rocking the forest as they all roared their approval. After a long second Lexa raised her and and the group quieted. “We thank you for your service. Go and see out your families.”

Heads bowed as the warriors passed continuing up the path til all that were left was the _heda_ herself, her two shadows, Clarke and her own shadow, Octavia, a young girl that Clarke had no idea where she came from, and Sindri.

Clarke smiled at Sindri after Octavia dropped back to ride by the young girl. He smiled back but urged his horse ahead when he noticed her trying to direct Darkfire next to him. She turned to glare at Bellamy’s back but found him already glaring at her. She shook her head in annoyance then went back to ignoring him.

Word seemed to travel just as fast here as it did back at camp because by the time they made it back to the city gates hundreds of people were already gathered to welcome their _heda_ home with cheers, lining the open areas between buildings and handing from windows.

In the middle of the more modern hodgepodge dwellings were bonafide pre-era buildings. It was the first time Clarke has seen them where they weren’t just piles of rubble. They made it to the center of town at the base of the tower. From this angle it looked even taller and she had to quell an innate sense of panic at being in the shadow of something so foreign to her.

There was a second welcoming party waiting there that Clarke took to be the Chiefs that she was not supposed to know about, the people gave them a respectful berth even as they packed in tight at the edge of the invisible line. Four people, three men and a woman, all held the same air of authority as Lexa.

“ _Wochas_ ,” the Commander greeted without inflection, “ _what brings you to Polish_?”

The man with a beard that rivaled Gustus’s spoke up, and Clarke was thrown off when it was in English. “We have heard rumors . We come to see if the rumors have merit.”

Lexa nodded thoughtful before swinging off her horse like a snake strike, quick and  menacing. Gustus and Bellamy were off their horses and by her side in less then a blink. No one drew a weapon but the air became tense.

“ _What_ _ro͞omər have you heard_ , Ryder?” Lexa questioned deadly calm.

The man did not back down, nor did he switch his tongue to match the _heda, “_ that you have not protected what is given to you.”

“I see,” Lexa said turning to the crowd that looked on with wide eyes. “Caris!”

“ _Heda!”_ the crowd parted and a woman that had traveled with them from TonDC stepped forward. She turned to the man, Ryder, and bowed her head. “Brother.”

Besides a flicker of a glance he did not take his eyes of Lexa. “You are well, Rissy?”

“Very,” the warrior answered.

It was finally the man’s turn to relax and he bowed low at the waist to Lexa. “ _Fiya, Heda. Ai get-klin.”_

 _“And what of mine,_ Lexa,” the woman of the quartet demanded. Clarke guessed her to be in her late forties with scarring that framed her eyes. Clarke was Unnerved by the cruel smugness in the woman’s eyes as if she dared Lexa to produce whoever she was missing.

“Queen Nia--”

Sindri stepped out of the crowd interrupting Lexa, “Mother.”

The smugness fell from the queen’s face replaced with a disfiguring fury. She advanced on her son and slapped him full across the face sending him to the ground.

 _“I am Azplana boy_ ,” she hissed standing over him. _“I know not who you are.”_ She turned to Lexa, fully ignoring the stunned man at her feet. _“I will send a worthy speaker when the snows fully clear.”_

“ _You are free to stay, Nia. I plan on calling a_ _semet_ ”

“ _And I will return when I am called_ ,” the woman’s lips curled as if the wording left a bad taste in her mouth.

“ _Very well,_ ” Lexa conceded with good grace. _“Good hunts_ , Nia.”

“ _And to you._ ”  With a snap of the woman’s fingers her and her guards swapped from the area.

That left Sindri there alone. Gaining his feet, he glanced around at all the quietly shocked faces. His face shuttered and he turned and left, taking a different path then the mother that had just publicly disowned him.

Bellamy, seeing that Lexa had no immediate need of him, turned to help her from her horse.

“I can do it,” she hissed quietly pushing his hands away and painfully swinging her leg over Darkfire’s wide back.

She had greatly misjudged the distance from the saddle to the ground and nearly managed to strain her knee as her body went down, down, down and her foot remained in the stirrup. Bellamy caught her before too much damage could occur and steadied with a hand on her hip as her legs became reaccustomed to standing. Unnerved by the intimacy of the gesture she made to push him off.

“Be still,” he snarled pulling her close to his side to disguise their disagreement.

She stiffened. “I don’t like it when you touch me.”

He snorted, “you are the one who wanted to to play this game so commit to it!”

She didn’t like the scolding, especially when she knew she deserved it. Who knew how many eyes were watching just ready to exploit any weakness she showed. Not only bringing her character into question but that off all of her people.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, forcing herself to relax in his hold. “I’ll do better.”

“Bellamy?” Lexa called and he was immediately turning away from her to turn to his leader. “Why don’t you show Clarke to your quarters so that she can settle in.”

* * *

Translations

 _Deimeika Jus-Teina --_ duty marrage

 _Wochas --_ chiefs

ro͞omər -- _rumor_

Fiya, Heda. Ai get-klin. --Apologies, Commander. I had to be sure.

 _Azplana --_ Ice Queen

_Semet -- summit/gathering of tribes_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought!!!


	46. Three Sides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are thee sides to every story. 
> 
> Jelame, RayanneJD, SoBe, fangirlFiona, ColeShor6, moonlilz, suku, nzfangirl01, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, FallingInLoveAllOverAgain, charleyfer, escape4rmreality, Kiyomisa, sunshinepatch, StarKiss666, elsac2, just_cassie_carlson, Kay, Camila Rodrigues.  
> Thanks for the comments my dudes!

Bellamy moved to follow Lexa’s orders without question, going to the unpack the horses and leaving Clarke standing there alone with all eyes on her.

 _‘Commit to it,’_ she mocked in her mind crossing her arms over her stomach glaring at his turned back wishing she had something heavy to bludgeon him with.

“ _Why do you call a_ _semet_ , _Heda?”_ Clarke overheard one of the remaining Chiefs demand and her hears perked up.

“ _There is much to discuss,”_ Lexa replied instead. “ _Let us offer you hospitality and we will talk more.”_

“This way,” Bellamy directed flipping his cloak back over her shoulders, their belongings slung over his shoulder.

“What about Murphy?” Clarke asked, trying to think of a way to stay and hear the rest of what was being said.

“O will see that the boy is settled. Move.”

She bit her lip against another protest not sure how wasn’t sure how to accomplish that hand still keep her secret understanding of their language so she allowed herself to be lead away from the others.

Instead of going into the tower as she had suspected they skirted the base moving around it and going deeper into the residential area. Trees seemed to grow as they would even in town and the pathways, some cases even the buildings, worked their way around them.

“Bell!” Somebody called and they both turned to see a woman jogging her way up to them to throw her arms around Bellamy in a tight hug, gushing in trigedasleng, “ _I just heard you were back. What news do you have?”_

Clarke felt her stomach turn, feeling even more like an outsider. Of course this man would have friends and by the casual way this woman was touching him, and the slight awkwardness in Bellamy’s return hug, Clarke new that at one time they had been lovers if they weren’t still.

“ _Heda will issue a statement soon,”_ Bellamy answered in kind, gently tugged the woman’s arms from around his neck flickering a glance at Clarke as he did so. He swallowed and changed to english. “Gina, let me introduce my _dula houmon,_ Clarke.”

 _“Dula houmon--”_ the woman’s wide smile froze as her eyes flashed between them. Slight hurt passed over her face but with a breath it was gone, buried somewhere deep, and the smile was back full force. “I see. Clarke, welcome. What clan you are?” she questioned taking her que from Bellamy and staying in english.

“I-uh,” Clarke stumbled not know how to answer or if she should answer.

“She has no clan, she is an outsider.”

“I...see.” The pucker between her brows belied her words. She turned back to Bellamy, “you coming tomorrow? The kids miss you.” The sadness broke though a little as she asked.

“Of course,” he replied seeming lost to what else to say.

Gina smiled before turning to Clarke. “Good meeting,” she nodded friendly before turning away to where she’d come.

Bellamy spent a long minute staring after the departing woman and Clarke felt like a poacher on top of being an outsider.

Finally he pulled himself away and with a gruff grunt to Clarke finished leading her to his home. It was mostly made of earth through the roof and door appeared to be reclaimed metal. He stepped in first with Clarke right on his heels. He headed straight for a table, setting down their packs as Clarke looked around. The dwelling was twice as long as it was wide. A large bed took up much of the north wall.

He felt her eyes on him as he moved around lighting candles against the coming evening. When he had a fire crackling he turned to her with a frown, “What?”

“I don’t mind if you sleep still with Gina, I would just prefer to know so I’m not blind sided.”

“Sleep?” he said slowly, prompting her to explain.

“You know, couplulate, bump uglies, do the nasty. Though I guess you can also just sleep with her.” She went to the table to grab her pack, pulling out her spare pair of dirty clothes, “doesn’t matter to me. Do you know where I can wash these?”

“We are bonded,” he explained in a growl. “I only ‘ _sleep’_ with you. We have a duty to the clan to see that it prospers.”

“Doesn’t it ‘prosper the clan’ more by having two females pregnant at the same time?” She pulled the cloak from her shoulders, warmth starting to circulated around the small area.

“We are bonded,” he said again as if it explained everything. “I would not dishonor myself, my _Heda_ , or her by having a baby with another.”

“Isn’t that every girl’s dream,” she scoffed to angry to look at him, “to have sex with a man to appease his ‘honor.’”

“You knew what this was when you said yes.”

“I didn’t know you already had a lover!” she slammed her hands on the table. “I didn’t know I would hurt an unknown woman on top of everything else.”

“Would it have changed anything if you did?” he hissed, a snarl curling under the words.

Her eyes cut to him, “don’t you even try and pull that high and mighty shit with me. You agreed to this knowing you had someone waiting here for you.”

The tight muscle in his jaw jumped but he didn’t break her stare. “Gina knows my life is Lexa’s to command. You being angry doesn’t change that or the rules you agreed to.”

“I should have been told.”

“We don’t always get our way, Princess. Its time you start learning that." He headed for the door.

Clarke felt a sharp bite of annoyance. “Where are you going?”

“There are things that need my attention.”

He left slamming the door. Clarke was childish enough to throw her dirty shirt after him. She pressed her fists to her eyes willing herself not to cry. She was not wrong in wanting to mitigate the damage her decision caused and fuck him for making her question herself.

Angerly she dumped her backpack upside down spilling its contents on the wooden table. Her tablet was long dead so she set it aside with her solar charger for tomorrow. Her medkit was still intact except for the syringe Bellamy had taken, she’d have to find some way of getting that back.

Denae’s stone jar which she placed with her medicines sat next to her mother’s final gifts. Her father’s wrist watch, the glass face broken and the hands forever frozen at fourteen minutes past two,  and a 9mm gun. Reaching down the collar of her shirt Clarke pulled out the amo clip she had stuffed down her bra for safe keeping. It would have been a disaster if Bellamy had gone through her things again and found the weapons; it would have been ten times worse if he had claimed the bullets with it.

She had demaded that Murphy did the same, keep the amo and the gun sepeart, in a quickly hissed conversation while the Heda’s party had finish getting ready to leave TonDC.

_“Things don’t die without bullets, Princess,” he told her dryly but competent enough to keep his voice down,_

_“Exactly. Keep the clip out of the gun but on your person so If you piss off and they take your gun, they can’t shoot you dead. Understand?”_

_He cocked an eyebrow at her, “so the princess really does care.”_

Murphy, yet another casualty on her path of peace. She sighed, shoving the clip back down her bra and slipping her gun down the back of her waistband. While she was mitigating the damage, she better going make sure her ‘ally’ wasn’t causing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. BUT WE SHALL PERSEVERE!! I'm not giving up yet but taking a long break was not a good idea ('~')
> 
> ps. no we are not having a love triangle. Just thought I'd make it easy one myself (jokes!) and add yet another character. GO ME!


	47. Temperament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Lbow1984, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, Kiyomisa, SkepticalBeliever, sunshinepatch, nzfangirl01, SoBe, suku, Cupcakenoodles, Sweetmelody, Valeria, Amy, Adriana for the kind words and support. Now on with the story!

Clarke stepped out of the house securing the door behind her. The few rays of sunlight making a valiant effort at breaking through the trees as night overtook them. Making a note of her surroundings, it wouldn’t do to get lost, Clarke slipped her jacket on against the slight chill in the air. Even with orientating herself with the tower it wasn’t ten minutes before she realized this might not have been the best idea. 

This wasn’t the Ark, with numbered corridors and posted maps at every intersection. And this wasn’t the camp she had seen built, carefully marked and mathematically adhered to as it stretched from the center like spokes from a wheel. Here buildings seemed to land wherever the wind scattered them, their design made with whatever was on hand and then added onto at will. Paths looped around and doubled back on themselves with seemingly no thought.

And everywhere people watched and whispered and stared at her. Being the child of two powerful councilmen and, in recent years, the godchild to the Chancellor, she was use to the whispers and stares but not for the heavy air of suspicion that followed her. No one tried to talk to her and on multiple occasions parents would bark something drawing their children inside their homes when they saw her.

Clarke had past three wells, or the same well three times from different directions when a woman stepped from her doorway a young toddler perched on her hip. 

“Does Bellamy know you are out?”

It was the woman’s voice that clued in on who she was but for the life of her Clarke couldn’t remember her name. It was the same woman that has stepped forward and greeted one of the chiefs when their group had first arrived at Polis, the one that had open the directed her to Lexa back in TonDC. Had it only been that morning? She looked different without her war paint and the bulk of her leather armor gone. 

“Does he need to know?” Clarke challenged, sticking her hands on her hips. Her  _ husband _ had set off quickly enough to leave her alone. And while she had been under someone’s watchful eye the whole of her time with the  _ geda _ she was going to be pissed if that was going to remain the case.

The woman absently tugged the end of her braid from her child’s grasp, eyes flickering easily into the growing shadows. “It would be for the best for you travel with Bellamy for your first time though the city.”

“Well, he’s busy and I have something to do.” She stepped closer to the woman an idea sparking, “maybe you can help me. Murphy, the other one of my people that traveled here, do you know where he’d be?”

The woman shook her head, jostling the baby that was starting to fuss. “Go to your bonded’s home and wait for Bellamy.”

Instead of disagreeing with the woman, Clarke simply nodding her thanks. When she made to continue her searched the woman stepped in front of her with a raised hand. 

“Wait,” she said. Turning to her home she called, “Autumn,  _ miya _ .”

A young boy around ten stepped out of the house behind her, “ _ sha, nomon?” _

_ “Go and find Bellamy, tell him he is needed,” _ she ordered in rapid trigedasleng. “ _ Chek-au Polis fostaim.”  _ The boy frownd but nodded skirting around Clarke at a run. The woman faced Clarke and told her in english, “my son will bring Bellamy.”

“Thank you,” Clarke said smiling tightly, annoyed that the woman was ignoring her wishes, “but it’s unnecessary. If Bellamy does comes just left him know I’ll find my friend on my own.”

Once more she turned to go when the appearance of four men, and the menace that clung to the air around them, stopped her. They fanned out in front of the house, fake smiles cutting their face as they looked the two women they blocked them in over.

“ _ Hei _ , Rissy,” the large man in the front sneered. “Sen-in yur bro soncha,” 

“Go inside,” the woman said quietly, her tone now a demand as she slipped the baby into Clarke’s arms and stepped in front of her. Wrangling the squalling child Clarke did what she was told retreating to the doorway, the gun a heavy weight against her back. 

The warrior faced the men, her bearing proud. “What do you want, Terro?”

“ _ Not a thing _ , san rit,” he smirked at the woman before his mean eyes landed on Clarke over her shoulder, “ _ gaf-in ai-op brana splita  _ Lexa _ lid-in. _ ”

Clarke turned, instinctively putting the bulk of her body between the man and the child she held as she she bounced it on her hip whispering soothing sounds to try and get it to stop crying. Her eyes checked the inside of the dwelling for a safe place to set the toddler if things became hairy.

“You have seen her. Now leave my home.” The woman’s oder drew Terro’s eyes back to her.

“ _ She doesn't even try to speak our tongue _ ,” he tisked in trigedasleng, speaking to the men behind him. “ _ This is not your home, san rit. Why don’t you go back to the sangeda where you belong?”  _

“Caris!” All eyes turned to see Bellamy, a relaxed arm around the boy who had run off to find him’s shoulder, as they walked up the path. “Sorry for interrupting your company though I thank you for watching my wife.”

“Do not be, they men were just leaving,” the woman answered, poster relaxing now that she had backup.

Bellamy’s smile was charming as he ruffled the boy’s hair and gave him a guiding push towards his mother, “Autumn, go calm your sister before she deafness us all.”

The men let the boy past without comment and he scampered to Clarke’s side innocence of the tension that rolled just under the surface between the adults. 

“I will take her, ma’am.” 

Clarke handed the child off with a grateful smile for the boy. Once the children were both safely inside she re-took her guard stance in the doorway, calculating just how long it would take her to load the gun and if she chanced reaching for it now.

“ _ I am starting to think Nia was right _ ,” Terro said spitting on the ground. “ _ Letting outsiders in just leads to more problems. If they are too weak to stand up for themselves what loyalty can they give to the Coalition _ .”

“Was it not the Lake people that started the rebellion that fractured the Coalition fifteen years ago?” Bellamy said easily coming to stand at Caris’s side. 

Terro’s face became a angry red at Bellamy’s words. “ _ Weak leadership does not deserve to wield power _ .”

“If you have concerns, Terro, please bring them up during  _ Semet _ ,” Bellamy’s smile turned wolfish, “we will see who is the weak. Til then, good night,” the last words were an order that the other men did not counter. With several last scathing looks the men disappeared back into the night.

Bellamy let out a long sigh, racking hands through his hair, “if Nia is good at anything, it is stirring the pot.”

Clarke stepped down to them. “Do you want us to say with you?”

“No.” Caris blinked, surprised at the question. “They have said their piece, they pose no threat now.” Caris locked looks with Bellamy, “but their words might.”

Bellamy’s gaze sharpened, understanding a conversation Clarke was not apartie too. “Have others been talking?”

Caris shook her head. “Mostly just Terro and his crowded but others are listening.” Her eyes flickered to Clarke and she switched to trigedasleng, speaking softly, “ _ and I do not think what Lexa does will help those words. _ ”

Clarke could tell Bellamy did not like the censor of his precious  _ heda _ by the way his jaw hardened. Instead of going off on her though, like Clarke half though he would, he nodded tightly. 

Having said her piece Caris stepped back. “I need to get Krissy down.” She disappeared inside, pushing the door shut.

Alone, he turned his glare on her. “What possessed you to leave the cabin?”

“I had things that needed my attention,” she enunciated, throwing his words back in his face.

“ _ Of all the stupid...”  _ he growled under his breath. Grabbing onto her wrist pulling her with him. 

Clarke planted her feet jerking back. “okay, what we’re not going to do is drag me behind you like a disobedient child.”

He eyed her up and down, keeping his grip as he marched, “at least you have the ‘disobedient’ right. When I leave you somewhere I expect you to stay there.”

“You can go float yourself,” she hissed, wrenching at her hold. He refused to let go. “You have about five seconds before I start screaming my head off,” she threatened raking her nails along his flesh.

“Do it,” he dared pulling her close, trapping both her hands between them. “See how far that gets you.”

She shook a hank of hair out of her face, glaring up at him. “Unless you plan on spending the rest of the night trying to keep me in your cabin, I suggest you save us both the trouble and just take me to Murphy.”

“Murphy? Murphy! That is what this is about?” he said incredulous. “You put yourself in harms way because you were too impatient wait an hour for me to come home?”

“What does you being home have to do with anything?” she demanded, tugging on her han again.

“Your friend is fine,” he rolled his eyes, ignoring her question but letting her go. “He is stationed in the barracks.”

“And where are the barracks?” she asked, rubbing at her wrist.

He eyed he suspiciously. “Why do you need to know.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid but sometimes you make me wonder.” She shook her head turning around, “maybe Caris knows.”

Letting out a frustrated huff he took her arm again.

“For the love of Hubble, stop grabbing me! I’ve told you repeatedly I don’t like it!”

“Shut up,” he seethed, propelling her in front of him but releasing his hold. “For just five minutes, shut up.”

Freed, she whirled on him, “if you don’t want to hear--”

“I am taking you to Murphy!” Bellamy interrupted all but yelling it in her face.

Clarke paused, surprised. “You are?” she asked.

“If it will grant me some peace and quiet,” he turned her around and prodding her forward. “Because its either that or strangle you.”

Wisely she clamped her mouth scurrying in front of him as he guided her. Turns out Clarke’s in her wanderings had also passed by the Barracks, two mostly rectangle buildings with a plot of open area between them. Leading her to the one on the right, Bellamy open the door and ushered her inside. Dozens of men filled the area, some on cots that lined the walls while others broke off in jovial uproaring groups. They found Murphy in the center of one of the latter.

“Clarke,” he drawled with a snide smile, his face half obscure by a deck of ratty playing cards. “Would you believe ‘poker’ has survived down here, too?”

“Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself,” she said dryly. He looked just the same as when she left him and judging by the sack of trinkets before him, he was quite a bit richer. 

“Loads.” His grin turned genuine when his eyes filter over her shoulder to the brooding shadow. “How’s the hubby treating you?”

“ _ Ye _ , Murphy, whose woman?” A geda warrior, reentering the circle, grabbed Clarke around the waist and pulled her into his lap as he sat laughing. 

Before she had time to panic, or even make a protest, Bellamy had the man around the throat and up against the wall. Like a candle being blown out the whole room went still eyes turned to the disturbance. 

“ _ Ain,”  _ Bellamy voice was like ice, his trigedasleng harsh. __ Slowly Clarke got to her feet.

“ _ Moba, Thrd,” _ the man didn’t fight Bellamy’s hold but stood there like a ragdoll.  _ “I did not know.” _

_ “This I know, Atohi, because otherwise you’d be dead.” _ He released the man who stood there eyes down, cowed. He turned, crowding in close to Clarke to hiss, “you have seen your friend, we are leaving.”

For once Clarke didn’t argue but nodded and proceeded him out the door. It wasn’t til they were back in she cabin that she spoke. 

“I would have taken care of it,” she said. He’s skeptical glare spoke volumes as he shoved past her to stoke up the fire. Wetting her lips she stared again. “I would have taken care of it but I’m glad I didn’t have to. So, you know,” she shrugged helplessly, feeling awkward under his stare, “thanks.”

He remained crouched, folding his hands on his knees as he sighed. “It is my duty to protect you. It is hard to do that when you are constantly ignoring my warnings and stepping into trouble.”

Her annoyance piqued as his putupon tone. “Not talking to me and then expecting me to sit meekly by while you go off and do shit is not going to fly.”

He stood crossing his arms, “would you have listened to me if I explained things to you?”

“Probably not,” she snapped turning away, “but we should try it just for the novelty.”

Stomping to the bed, she ripped off one of the top furs shaking it out and laying it on the ground between the wall and the bed.

“What are you doing now?” Bellamy demanded from behind her.

“Getting ready to bed,” she said tossing a blanket on top of the pallet she made.

“You are not sleeping on the ground,” he insisted. “Take the mattress.”

“Alright.” she conceded easily, tromping to the table to swipe her backpack and the rest of her things before marching back to line them along the wall.

“You are going to sleep on the ground, aren’t you.”

She smiled up at him pulling off her boots. “You catch on quick.”

He sighed, defeated. “You are impossible.”

* * *

 

Translations:

_ Miya \--  _ come here

_ sha, nomon --  _ yes, mother

_ Chek-au polis fostaim -- _ check polis(the tower) first

“ _ Hei _ , ‘Rissy’, sen-in yur bro soncha --Hey, Rissy, heard your brother was in town.

san rit,  _ gaf-in ai-op brana splita  _ Lexa _ lid-in. --  _ sand rat, just wanted to see the new outsider Lexa brought in.”

_ Sangeda -- Sandpeople // desert _

_ Ain _ \-- mine

_ Moba, Thrd -- _ Sorry, Third


	48. Refraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nzfangirl01, SoBe, Lbow1984, Luísa, SilviaBohemica, pammbam14, suku, kate, Teespazzr, Kiyomisa, Ani, Mkayla94
> 
> SkepticalBeliever special things for being kind enough to answer an author's nosy question.
> 
> ~~~Also just a recap, when a geda is talking in *italicized* they are speaking in trigedasleng that Clarke for the most part understands.

_I will kill the lying bitch!_

Clarke woke with the trigedasleng curse ringing in her ears and invisible hands wrapped around her throat as she scrambling for her weapon. All she felt was more blankets. Struggling to her knees it took her terror and sleep heavy brain precious seconds to realize she was no longer being held down by a faceless assailant.  

Panting quietly, heart racing, she took in her surroundings. Not a midnight forest filled with monsters but an enclosed room, warm and quiet. In the faint light of glowing embers her eyes picked out simi-familiar things; a table and a couple of chairs, a stack of wood next to the hearth with miscellaneous pan hanging from hooks protruding from the earthen walls, and a bookshelf pack with spare clothes and other goods.

The clothes reminded Clarke that she was missing a key object of the cabin, the owner. Whose bed she was currently occupying.

“Child of an amoeba,” she cursed under her breath. Leaning over the edge of the mattress she looked down to sure enough see that her original sleeping place was occupied by a curly mop of dark hair.

Her fear quickly morphed itself righteous anger, how _dare_ he go against her wishes and move her to the bed. With no thought at all she gripped one of the pillows and slung it down on his head.

He woke with a start, confused as to why he was being attacked, “what the fuck?”

“My sentiments exactly,” she seethed. Kicking off the blankets that were wrapped around her legs and planting her feet on the floor uncaring of any body parts that were caught beneath them. “Get up.”

Rolling away from her invading limbs, he glared up at her through bleary eyes, “what?”

“Get! Up!” she accompanied the order with a not too subtle nudge to his ribs, quickly drawing way when her foot came into contact with bear skin.

Bellamy pushed himself to an upright position, the blankets falling to his waist. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You,” she hissed planting herself in the vacated area, the furs still warm with his body heat, wedging herself in more the further he retreated.

“What the hell did I do?” he growled, now marooned at the end of the pallet, the light of the fire throwing half is face in sharp relief.

She refused to be embarrassed by his naked chest or that she was only in a t-shirt and underwear.  “I already told you I wasn’t taking the mattress. It’s your bed, you use it.”

“Fuck,” he groaned sleepily, his jaw cracking on a yawn as he pushed himself to his feet. “Sorry I tried to do something nice for you, _hainofi_.”

He stretched running a hand through his hair but all Clarke could see were those hands reaching for her, trying to suffocate her, trying to kill her, to ‘ _kill the lying bitch.’_

He saw her shiver wrapping the blanket around herself in a protective gesture and bent to add a new log to the fire. Not just for the new warmth but the add security of seeing the light.

When he was done he sat down on the edge of the mattress his back to Clarke. “When I was young and I had a nightmare, my mom--” his breath caught for a second but he pushed on, “my mom had me about them. Said speaking them aloud cleared the mind and helped you get back to sleep. I could … listen.” He turned peeking at her over his shoulder, “if you want.”

She opened her mouth to tell him to shove off but the words lodged in her throat. The terror of the dream came back, the feeling of hands around her throat, the words, _his words,_ ringing in her ear. The absolute rage in the them terrified her. Instead of relying she mutely shook her head, looping the blanket to cover her ears and laid down on her side, her back to the bed.

His sigh was only barely audible over the crackle of flames as consumed their new fuel.

* * *

 Clarke slammed out of the cabin the next morning spitting mad. She had awoken on the mattress, again, and was going to give Bellamy an ear full for disregarding her demands. As soon as she found him. The city was larger and she was stomping her way around blindly, her anger growing with every step.

“Clarke!”

The sound of her name brought her up short. When she turned and saw who it was she almost wished she hadn't stopped.

“Gina,” Clarke greeted awkwardly. Of all the people she would have preferred to have run into, Bellamy’s lover was at the very bottom of the list.

“Great morning,” she smiled setting the baskets she carried at her feet with a grunt of effort before straightening. “Are you rested after your journey?”

“Uh, yes,” Clarke replied carefully, eyes searching for a way to strategically retreat. Hawking, she would have taken the quartet from last night, at least that way she could let deal with some of her ire instead of having to stand in front of the woman she had unknowingly scorned.

Gina cocked her head slightly to the side, “does Bellamy know you are out?”

Clarke’s eyes snapped back to the woman, “why does everyone keep saying that? Am I supposed to be a prisoner and nobody’s told me?”

“No, no,” the woman quickly back peddle, eyes wide. “You are _dula houmona,_ bride of peace. You ‘protected,’ not ‘prisoner,’ understand?”

“No, I don’t,” Clarke shook her head. Maybe she’d actually get some answers from somebody instead of everyone assuming she knew what was happening.  “Why do I need to be protected?”

Gina’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, at a loss for words. “Peace is breakable. You-- _ba no_. Lexa--” she let out an an agitated sigh looking  frustrated with herself. “Talk with Bellamy. His english better, you understand.”

Clarke pursed her lips. He didn’t have as good a grasp on the english language as he though if he didn’t get simple commands like ‘no’ and ‘don’t move me to your bed’, but she kept her peace, instead asking trying hard to hide her snarl, “do you know where I can find him? I’d like to ask my questions now.”

Gina blinked, studding the girl. From what Bellamy had told her she was as blunt as a hammer and set on getting her way in even when she did not know what outcomes would occur. He had called her a ‘child with no training,’ an hindrance to themselves and others.

What she saw was a woman with the same strength of will as the Commander and Octavia and Bellamy; a fire that burned through opposition to create something new. Gina had always wished she had that same flame inside her.

“Yes,” she smiled at the blond woman. Bellamy deserve someone who would be his equal. “I know where to find him.” She picked up her baskets. “I walk to see him and the kids now.”

“Kids? You’ve mentioned them before.” Clarke said falling into step beside her, reaching for one of the handles, “here let me carry one of those.”

“ _Chof_ ,” Gina said handing off one of the baskets. “Yes, kids. As _thrd_ Bellamy has training of the young. Did he not tell you?”

“He’s not told me a lot of things,” Clarke growled.

“Do not be angry,” Gina said knowing from her talk with Bellamy that the woman was upset for her pain she had caused her. “It is an honor to be picked to bind the peace, an honor I knew would be asked of Bellamy some day. Your are very lucky,” she said candidly, “he is a good lover.”

Clarke choked on her own tongue. Once she caught her breath she asked, “it doesn’t make you mad? He married someone without telling you.”

 _“_ Bellamy will never go against _Heda_ , for if he did I would not want him.” Gina would never tell his bonded that she had shed some tears over the loss, emotions hold little understanding of the way of world. “K _linrona kigon flou-thru.”_

“Clinron?” Clarke said confused.

“Oh, apologies,” she said shaking out of her melancholy, transferring her basket to the other hand. “ _KlIN-rOna,”_ she pronounced it correctly and slowly for the foriener, _“_ means ‘river’. It is a trigedasleng for ‘life goes on’. We will be friends and warriors but our time as One is over.”

“It’s not fair,” Clarke stressed. “You did nothing wrong.”

Gina shrugged, “one does not always end because a part did something wrong. Sometimes things end.”

Clarke was quiet for a long time as the walked, absorbing what the woman said. “For what it’s worth,” she said finally, voice soft, “I am sorry for what has happened.”

“Do not be sorry,” Gina smiled, forcing a cheerfully tone. She liked this girl who thought of others. “Make it happy. Bellamy deserves happy.”

'Bellamy deserved a swift kick in the ass,' Clarke thought but didn’t say as they drew closer to a mass of children with swords standing in rows five feet apart. Spying the two females, and the baskets, half the children broke formation with cries of glee. The other, older, half looked like they wanted to to the same but looked to the dark haired man before them for direction.

Bellamy let out a sharp whistle and the children clambering around Clarke and Gina froze, shooting guilty looks at Gina. Trying to keep a straight face the warrior woman tisked sharply, gesturing the children to go back in line. With dragging heads they did so and Clarke watched as Bellamy seemed to lecture them in trigedasleng.

“Come,” Gina whispered, nodding to a waist high rock to the side. Bellamy had the kids run through another set of sword maneuvers as Clarke and Gine set out the baskets filled with nearly spherical lumps of bread.

“Here,” Gine held out one of the foodstuff, biting into one of her own and sharing a conspirators grin, “take one before they are wild.”

Clarke sniffed at it. She though she recalled seeing a plate of them the previous morning on the _heda’s_ table but hadn't stayed long enough to see if anyone took one. But then again, none of the food she’d had thus far had been bad. Taking a bite she found that the inside was soft, still a slight bit warm, and sweet. Not quite as good as Denea’s filled biscuit it was still marginally better then  she’d had on the Ark.

The the horde of children befell them. Standing in ordered lines they didn’t look to be that many, maybe twenty, but when they all turned into a mass of grabbing hands their numbers seemed to triple.

“ _Heya!”_ Gina roared trigedasleng, clapping her hands sharply, the abrupt shift in tone startling Clarke. “ _Everyone line up!”_

“ _Little monsters_ ,” Bellamy waded into their numbers, picking up the smaller ones who shrieked as he hung them upside down, “l _isten to Gina, wait your turn.”_

The children more or less obeyed. There was minimal scolding from one of the two adults when one child pushed another or tried to take a second before everyone else had had a first. One young girl, maybe five or six stepped up to Clarke, fist around a half eaten _muffin,_ going off in a mad-lib of trigedasleng. Confused, Clarke turned to Gina looking for a translation.

“She asks why your hair is yellow,” Gina explained, steadying the hand of a small boy as she filled his cup from a pitcher. “It reminds her of a book Bellamy reads to them.”

Clarke turned back to the girl, crouching down and smiling at her. “My hair is yellow because the teeny tiny cells that make it up don’t have a special structure that gives it color. So instead of the light bouncing off my hair,” she pantomimed sunlight shining off her head and the girl giggled, “it gets stuck inside and turns blond or ‘yellow’.”

“Ye’lo,” the girl repeated gleefully.

“Yeah, yellow.” Clarke grinned, playfully tugging on the girl’s ponytail, “and what color is your hair?”

“ _Modi._ ”

“ _En gonasleng, snogon,”_ Gina directed.

“Bron,” the child chirped proudly.

“A very pretty brown,” Clarke said and the girl beamed before racing off.

“You did not have to make up a story,” Bellamy grumbled from behind her. “You could have just said you were born with it.”

She pushed up with her thighs frowning at him. “I didn’t make up a story.”

“‘The sun gets trapped in your hair,’” he paraphrased quirking a disbelieving eyebrow. “That is not a story?”

“I was trying to stay it in a way she would understand,” she growled. “I could have said that my hair is blond because it’s the only visible light wave that is refracted from the lack of melanin pigments stored in the follicle, but I don’t like people feeling stupid for asking questions.” She sent him a pointed look.

“Melan-what?”

“Melanin, you know that stuff that gives skin color?” His blank stare hit her like a ton of bricks. “Who don’t know what melanin is?”

“You are real good at the whole, ‘not make’n me feel stupid’ thing, _hainofi,_ ” he bit out sarcastically.

“I’m … sorry,” she stuttered, still reeling. “You guys do have science down here, right?”

“‘Science’?” he repeated.

“Yes, the study of the structure and behavior of the physical and natural world through observation and experimentation.” she recited, the knowledge she had carried since the time she learned the first rule of the ark at her mother’s knee and had expanded upon in her schooling.

“You mean ‘living’?” Gina asked dusting off her hands and joining them, the kids all fed. “The fire is hot, the wheat makes bread, the rains come and the water rises.”

“But why is the fire hot,” Clarke persisted, trying to get them to see how she had grown up being taught, “how does the wheat make bread.”

Gina’s head tipped to the side, curious. “Do you need to know the why when things just are?”

“You can understand the world if you know,” Clarke stressed.

“We understand the world, skaifaya _hainofi,”_ Bellamy snarled, jumping in on his bond’s condescending tone. _“_ it is you who fell from the sky not knowing. Is that not why you came to us?”

“Yes,” Clarke swallowed against the tightness in her throat at the belittling words, feeling the eyes of the children drawn to them from the raised voices. “That’s why I’m here.”

In a place that didn’t want her, bound to a man who might still want her dead because all of the knowledge and science on the planet wasn’t able to help them when they needed it. Before she could give into the angry tears that threatened she turned and walked away.

* * *

 

Translations:

 _ba no --_ but no

 _Chof_ \-- thank you

_No lan-op fleim-klin rien --no use cursing the rain_

_Klinrona kigon flou-thru -the river still flows//life goes on_

_Modi -- brown_

_En gonasleng, snogon  -- in english, loved one_

skaifaya  _hainofi -- Star Princess_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how the Gina/Clarke dynamic worked. I want Clarke to still be embarrassed but Gina fine with/resigned with how things are(those are just how things work in their world). Aiming for friendly vibes.
> 
> Also, what else do you guys want to see?


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's ... something.
> 
> Thank you for the comments! RayanneJD, SoBe, Saryiia, SerenityAlways, purple101, pammbam14, Luísa, Love_Forever_a_Fangirl, StarlightAfterAStorm, Lauren, sunshinepatch, suku, olioliwoo, Rose_red

Good riddance, Bellamy thought to himself as he glared at the blond’s retreating back. He turned back only to see Gina standing in his way, eye’s furious. 

“What in the seven hells is the matter with you,” she hissed lowly, conscious of the kids finishing there snack nearby glancing at them with curious eyes. 

“She was making fun of you,” Bellamy reared back, flabbergasted at her anger. 

“I asked a question,” she spatt marching after him as he retreated a step, “she answered. How is that making fun of me?”

Bellamy locked his legs, refusing to give ground when he was in the right. “She thought she was better than you. I set her back in her place.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Gina scolded, tossing her head. “Her place is not your enemy. She is a peace bride and you have a duty to protect, her not attack her!”

“My duty to my people comes first. To protect them from the danger she brings--”

“What danger?” she demanded incredulous. “You told me that without her technology she is a but a child.”

“But she brings those things with her. Needles to poison us with, bullets to murder, new ways of thinking that will change--”

“Gah, you sound like Gustus,” Gina accused. “New does not mean bad, Bellamy.”

“Those knew ways kept my sister in a cage and nearly killed her!” he yelled, the true reason for his anger bubbling forth. Frustrated at his own outburst he paced infront of her, hands contracting in fist. He was always in control. He had to be.

“Clarke is the one in the cage now,” Gina said, disappointment deep in her eyes. “And instead of helping her, like she did your sister, you want to keep her locked in there.”

Her words sinking in even though Bellamy did not want to hear them. His hand cut through the air, not wanting to hear anymore. He turned away.

“Do not walk away from me.” 

He froze, keyed in to the soft tone of her voice. “I am done discussing this. I have training.”

“You have a bonded that you have hurt.” She stepped around to stand in front of him again. “She is lost, Bellamy. A lost child in a strange world with no one there to help or guide her.”

Her aim with a bow was second to none. Now sweet, kind Gina let each word fly like an arrow into his very soul. Memories flowing through the newly rawed wounds; walking for miles, villages that would turn their back on a young boy and his pregnant mother, the only food what he could scanvage or steal.  

“It is not the same,” he said through nerveless lips.

“No,” Gina allowed, wanting to lay a hand on his cheek but stopping herself. He was no longer her’s to comfort. “But that does mean she does not need help all the same.”

“She does not want my help, she has made that very clear.” 

“What one needs and what one wants are very different beasts. Go,” she directed, “talk to her before the hurt grows too large that it cannot be overcome.”

He growled, covering his eyes, “what would you have me say, Gina?” 

“How about starting with what duty bride means and what rolles you both have chosen.”

“She already knows…” he trailed off trying to think back to who had instructed her on the path she had chosen. It was not him. Lexa perhaps? Octavia? Or had she walked into this with a half cocked plan like she had done so many other times. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, dreading the answer to that pit of mire. 

Gina patted him on the chest in commiseration, knowing from the gesture that he was actually starting to think instead of staying locking in his emotion. “I will take the warriors,” she told him. “You go talk with Clarke. Take as long as you need to come to an understanding. She is in your life now so stop trying to fuck it up.” 

She turned away, bellow for the kids to falling to line. Every child, no matter what they were doing, stood and scrambled into formation arms folded behind their back at her all, looking for further instruction. “We go to the archery fields. Last ones there runs an extra lap! Move out.” 

Like a swarm they took off. Gina gave Bellamy one more pointed look before loping gracefully off beside them. 

Rubbing at his face, Bellamy took a second to collect himself. With a long sigh he started tidying up the mid morning snack, stacking cups and placing them in the baskets for the kids to take to the river and clean. With nothing else to do to postpone him he set off for his house. Neighbors nodded respectfully to him as he passed.

He knew an apology was warranted for snapping at her, infront of others if nothing else. With is anger he did not think he would be able to manage without choking on it. He almost turned around to head back to training, leave the princess to her floundering. But people had already seen him pass and the thought of having to confront Gina again without having shown he had followed her advice would not go over well. Thought not often, when Gina decided to take a stand, only the direct order of the  _ Heda _ could get her to back down. The truly annoying part of was that Lexa would probably agree with her. He hated it when his flaws were pointed out to him. 

He did not think he was so unjust in his grievances. When Lexa ordered him to marry Bellamy always saw his future partner as a serious warrior, one of those nomadic horse tribes to the far west perhaps, a woman who would at the very least be able to take care of herself. He had never taken into account a group of outsiders falling from the literal sky with nothing to offer but poisons and weapons. 

He stood in front of his house with a frown. Gina said to explain things to his bonded, so he would start there. Maybe by laying down ground rules she would come to see things his way. And maybe pigs would one day fly.

She would have to be watched all the time. His station as third kept him much too busy to babysit the outside with no training. Maybe if he ordered it, Cara would watch her until...until what he did not know. Until she learned how to mind her tongue so it would get her killed for the insult she gave? If he had ever met someone as cursed stubborn as the blond witch it escaped him now. 

Bellamy sighed and  pushed open his door, wanting to get this over with so he could go back to work. “We need to talk about your lack of--”

The room was empty. Clarke was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support as I try and fiugare out what I'm doing <3


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